


The Textactive Stalker

by Wednesday Thunder (wednesdaythunder)



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Not Klaine Friendly, Texting, initial Klaine, like a lot-a lot of texing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 21:26:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1241296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesdaythunder/pseuds/Wednesday%20Thunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian: Ever since he started getting text messages from an unknown number, it becomes evident with every new text that the other person knows exactly who he was. Yet, even the creepy stalker factor wasn't enough to stop Sebastian from forming a real connection with a friend he only knows by written words. Or does he?</p><p>Kurt: Never the one to go down without a challenge, he anonymously starts texting to Sebastian Smythe, trying to find any weakness in his armour.  But never was he prepared for the boy he got to know, or the feelings to grow stronger with each unopened message...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Textactive Stalker

**Author's Note:**

> If only as a note to myself, but I was heavily influenced by [Lettered](http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=4661&font=&size=) as well as Little Numbers while writing this –– both of which are great fanfictions and I think should be compulsory to read because they’re just that brilliant. In other words, if you haven’t read them yet, I recommend with all my heart that you do.  
> A zillion thanks to Olinka and her super-editing powers and watchful eye and general awesome –– also thanks and cuddles (they are so coming when I get up there biatch) and to Bunny who kept listen to me whine and told me that my stuff was good when I was dying.

(16:16)

 **Unknown Number:** Why would you want to have courvoisier in your coffee?

Sebastian looked down at his phone, re-reading the text for what seemed to be the third time, before hitting _Reply_ and typing in an answer.

(16:25)

 **You:** I’m not forcing anyone to drink it, so I don’t think it’s any of your concern. And who are you anyway?

 **Unknown Number:** You make it my concern by ruining a perfectly good cup of coffee.

(16:26)

 **Unknown Number:** And it doesn’t matter who I am – what matters is that you can’t improve perfection.

(16:28)

 **You:** LOL, you have issues. Leave me and my coffee alone.

Sebastian didn’t get an answer after that, which was fine by him anyway –– he didn’t really fancy stalkers, no matter how witty they might appear.

* * *

A week later, and Sebastian had actually forgotten about the short conversation with the unknown number when his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket, alerting him of a new text just as he was just settling down in his seat at McKinley High’s auditorium, waiting for _West Side Story_ to start.

(16:50)

 **Unknown Number:** You’re here, aren’t you?

 **You:** Wrong number.

(16:51)

 **Unknown Number:** Could be, but I think not. Because your name is Sebastian Smythe whose whereabouts may or may not be at William McKinley High School right now, am I mistaken?

(16:52)

 **You:** Just who the hell are you?

(16:53)

 **Unknown Number:** Scared? Fear not, Sebastian. I actually don’t mean you any harm, was just checking because, as you may be aware of, the auditorium is rather dark right now.

 **You:** Yeah, well, I’d like to know who I’m talking to.

 **Unknown Number:** I reckon you do.

(16:54)

 **Unknown Number:** But see, I won’t tell you

 **You:** You’re that guy from the other day, aren’t you?

 **Unknown Number:** Good, Watson, but what makes you think that I’m a male?

(16:56)

 **You:** I said “guy”, /Sherlock/, to use a gender-neutral form for someone whose sex I don’t know because, frankly, writing “that person/human being from the other day” is not exactly convenient for casual text messaging. Get it, pumpkin?

(16:58)

 **Unknown Number:** For someone who obviously cares about what words are appropriate in which context, you still took the time to write a mini-essay about the proper use of “guy”. I’m sort of impressed.

(16:59)

 **You:** I’m glad to hear because I purposely try to impress every textactive stalker I stumble upon. But the question still stands: who are you?

(17:01)

 **Unknown Number:** Shhhh, it’s starting!

 **You:** Like I care

(17:05)

 **Unknown Number:** You don’t?

(17:06)

 **Unknown Number:** Then why are you here?

(17:08)

 **You:** Didn’t you just imply that one shouldn’t text while watching a musical?

 **Unknown Number:** Indeed I did. Over and out.

* * *

He would take this (along with a bunch of other things as well) to the grave, but in all honestly, Sebastian’s first thought when he had laid eyes on Kurt Hummel a few weeks ago had been that the guy was hot. Really hot, actually, in a way that Blaine obviously could never achieve –– it was like Hummel had a burning fire hidden inside of him or something. At least, that was Sebastian’s impression. But along with the obvious potential, it was equally as obvious that Kurt Hummel was a guy with a stick up his arse; he was just as much of a blushing virgin as his boyfriend, but far more reserved and not at all naïve. As a result, although Hummel _was_ argumentatively hotter than Blaine, Sebastian wouldn’t bother. Hummel was something like a great painting hanging in the Louvre; Sebastian could watch and admire that arse and deliciously long legs as much as he liked, but touching was out of the question. And it was not because Hummel had a boyfriend or whatever; it was because Sebastian knew that if he ever tried to run his fingers across the boy’s statue-like face, the museum guards would run up to him and arrest him for vandalism or whatever.

No, Blaine was by far much easier to deal with; he obviously liked the attention, and unlike Hummel who would shoot him down faster than Russian aeroplane on American territory, Blaine politely declined but did not step back when Sebastian waved his flag of sexual availability.

Even so, he couldn’t help but find it amusing to rile Hummel’s feathers up; it was a great addition to his actual goal. So when he had arrived at Scandals before the two puppy-gays, he couldn’t help but to order Hummel something presumably ‘girly’ just to tease him about his femininity along with his own drink and one for Blaine (which would hopefully be enough to get the Hobbit drunk; seriously, he looked like a real light-weightier, that one).

It hadn’t gone as well as he had hoped though –– but to be completely honest, he hadn’t really thought that he would have managed to get into Blaine’s pants that night either. Not with Kurt there. Instead, he was trying to go slow and try to force Kurt out of the picture in order to get Blaine alone because a Blaine without a Kurt nearby looked like a ridiculously easy target.

After _West Side Story_ though, he realised that his best chances might be through social media. That way there would be no Kurt to step in when Sebastian started flirting, and it really opened up new possibilities.

But then, one day in the Lima Bean, just a couple of days after the première, he saw the change in both Blaine and Hummel. Small things really, like how there was a bounce in Blaine’s steps when he walked over to Kurt with two cups in his hands, the way Hummel was far less stiff in his pose, almost elegantly saggy if you may, and let’s not forget bubbling smile across Blaine’s face that met the calm smile of Kurt’s.

They had so done it.

It was obvious to anyone who knew what to look for. And knowing that they were mostly likely in some first-sex post-orgasm bliss, Sebastian took his coffee with him. There was nothing he could do today because the two of them would be too caught up in each other.

As he walked out the door and gave the couple one last glance, he incidentally wondered who topped and who bottomed.

* * *

(16:06)

 **You:** You know, I tried looking you up.

(16:08)

 **Unknown Number:** How well did it go? :)

 **You:** You got a restricted number, don’t you?

 **Unknown Number:** Naw, what gave me away? Wasn’t the internet to any use? :)

 **You:** I’ll have you know that I got unprecedented skills when it comes to finding data and dirt on people.

(16:09)

 **Unknown Number:** Yet here you are, not one step closer to figuring out my identity.

 **You:** I wouldn’t say that. Your admission to having a restricted number does give me some clue to your identity.

(16:10)

 **Unknown Number:** That is correct, John, but I reckon that you will have to go a little bit deeper than that because, let’s face it, this is rather useless information.

 **You:** You think? I believe that it means that you do not want to be found.

 **Unknown Number:** That’s usually why people have restricted numbers, Watson.

 **You:** Well obviously – but /why/ do you not want people to find your number? Because I seriously doubt that it is just because of me.

 **Unknown Number:** Oh? That’s very /not/ egocentric of you.

(16:11)

 **Unknown Number:** But I guess I’ll give you this; yes, it’s not because of you.

 **You:** See, I had a feeling that being a little humble would pay off

 **Unknown Number:** Key words /a little/

(16:12)

 **You:** I still want to know why you’re texting me.

 **Unknown Number:** You’ll find that it was you who started this conversation.

 **You:** Yes, but you were the one who got a hold my number and started to text me at all in the first place. Without your first text, we wouldn’t be standing here right now.

 **Unknown Number:** I'm sitting right now, actually.

(16:13)

 **You:** Fuck you

 **Unknown Number:** Oh reaaal mature

 **Unknown Number:** What makes you so damn sure that you would want to fuck me – and let’s not forget /why/ I would ever let you.

 **You:** Have you seen ME?

(16:14)

 **Unknown Number:** And here we can bear witness how the humbleness flew out the window.

 **You:** Pleaaase. I’m merely being realistic. Anyone would be lucky to be fucked by me.

(16:16)

 **Unknown Number:** Mhm, aha

 **Unknown Number:** Yet I can’t find it in myself to believe in that.

 **You:** Maybe you’re just being blind.

 **Unknown Number:** Or /maybe/ you give yourself far too much credit.

(16:17)

 **You:** Just because it’s well deserved. But tell me this: if /I/ don’t believe in myself, then who will?

(16:19)

 **Unknown Number:** … no one.

 **You:** Exactly

 **You:** So I don’t care too much when people call me on it.

(16:22)

 **Unknown Number:** But there’s one thing to believe in yourself, and another one entirely to be cocky about it and shoot down others to make room for your massive ego.

(16:23)

 **You:** And I should care what you think because..?

(16:26)

 **Unknown Number:** Nevermind.

* * *

 

This was utterly ridiculous, not to mention borderline pathetic.

Sebastian shouldn’t care what Hummel thought of him because he _didn’t do_ that. He didn’t give comments, such as _“I don’t like you,”_ a second thought, because he was far too used to them by now. Or at least he should be.

It didn’t matter that it was Hummel who said it though, it really didn’t, and Sebastian had reacted well enough, giving back as good as he got. But when he was sitting at dinner with his family around that ridiculously large table that they had for just the three of them, the words kept repeating in his head, almost like someone was standing behind him, whispering them into his ear. And it wasn’t even Hummel’s fault, he had merely been a trigger; but it was the way his mother threw him a look as she asked him how school was, it was how his father gave him a quick nod when he shared how his History test had went swimmingly; it was the almost forced smiles on their faces and the tiny, tiny sigh of relief when he excused himself from the table.

“ _We love you, Sebastian, we really do –– but we don’t like you,”_ was always there, hovering over them whenever he was present.

How fun, he didn’t like them either.

But it always made him oh so frustrated because there was literally _nothing_ he could do to change their minds. He couldn’t even figure out what part they didn’t like. Was it his sexuality? –– because that was unchangeable. But he didn’t think it was, not so much because his parents had always been rather expectant when it came to homosexuality, even before Sebastian came out. So no. Was it his personality, then? –– because he _clearly_ must have missed the message that he wasn’t allowed to take after the way his mother drove over people in order to get her way or inherit his father’s famously sharp tongue that could leave anyone speechless.

He had tried, God knew he had tried to please them: studying his arse off, being the most charming son ever, despite how much he hated each and every public event that they dragged him to, going into half a year of celibacy in case his hook ups were the problem, but it was _all_ in vain. He was always met with the same nod, the same half-arsed smile and _“oh, that’s great, honey,”_ and that was it. So naturally, he stopped trying.

Still, as he walked up the stairs to his room, his fingers were twitching, and he was restless to _do something_. And not sneak out the window and get drunk, he had a Calculus test tomorrow thankyouverymuch, and people _would_ actually notice at Dalton if he had a hangover. So no, Sebastian might be restless and impulsive by nature, but never stupid.

In the end though, he settled for what his impulse urged him to and pulled out his phone after throwing himself onto his bed.

(17:42)

 **You:** Why is it that no one likes me?

Perhaps not the best thing to ask his new-found stalker, but whatever, it was called an impulse for a reason. And sure enough, an answer came in quickly because if there was one thing that he actually liked about this person behind the number, it was his or her fast answers.

(17:46)

 **Unknown Number:** I’m sorry, since when did I become your therapist?

 **You:** Oh, don’t tell me you missed the memo – you’re my new sounding board on which I throw my questions and musings :D

 **You:** Congratulations!

(17:47)

 **Unknown Number:** And I have no say in this matter? Lucky me...

(17:49)

 **You:** Well, no one is making you answer my texts

(17:52)

 **Unknown Number:** Okay, I give up – why doesn’t anyone like you?

 **You:** That’s what I wanted you to tell /me/

 **Unknown Number:** Yeah, well, can’t make a judgement with just that text to work with, smartarse.

(17:53)

 **Unknown Number:** Fill me in a little?

 **You:** You’ll never make it as a therapist, just FYI

 **Unknown Number:** Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m looking over my career options.

 **Unknown Number:** Now type or shut it.

Might be silly, but in the privacy of his room Sebastian allowed himself to laugh at how his stalker snapped at him, the guy or girl was fun to banter with.

(17:55)

 **You:** I don’t know – it feels weird to share it with the class when I know next to nothing about you, and you know me by name already. How can I trust you, huh?

(17:56)

 **Unknown Number:** If you hadn’t felt some trust in me, you wouldn’t have asked me that question to begin with.

(17:57)

 **Unknown Number:** But I’ll make a deal with you. You get to ask me a question, and if I approve of it, I’ll answer truthfully. Otherwise, you get to ask another, and then (if you actually fill me in) I’ll /try/ to be helpful.

 **You:** What’s your name?

(17:58)

 **Unknown Number:** It’s “Stalker” to you. Ask another.

(17:59)

 **You:** I’ll just go ahead and add it as your name in my contacts then. What’s your gender?

(18:00)

 **Stalker:** How endearing. And I’m male, now shoot.

 **You:** Pushy~

(18:03)

 **You:** But okay, I just had yet another pointless family dinner where my parents clearly didn’t know what to do with me, and they just sat there, either pretending that I’m not there or just waiting for me to leave. And it’s annoying.

(18:06)

 **Stalker:** I’m sure that they love you – and maybe you could try to start a conversation of your own if they don’t know how, like you said.

(18:07)

 **You:** Of course they love me, I know that, but they don’t /like/ me. There’s a difference.

(18:09)

 **Stalker:** I see.

 **Stalker:** I guess I’ll have to be honest with you then. I don’t have an answer to your problem. If you were just speaking in general, I would say that you should maybe stop behaving like an arse to people, but it's clearly more than that.

 **Stalker:** Sorry :(

Although Sebastian felt like snapping because of the pitiful last text, it made him feel a bit better knowing that this guy was at least confident enough to say that he didn’t know instead of giving Sebastian some meaningless words of so-called wisdom. He has always preferred to know the truth than to lull himself into some false security and ignore reality.

(18:11)

 **You:** It’s fine. Thanks for being honest at least.

 **Stalker:** Of course I’ll be honest. And it sounds very cheesy and dull, but if you /do/ want to talk about stuff then you can just text me. I mean I am your sounding board after all ;P

 **You:** Haha, I’ll keep that in mind XD

 **You:** But enough of that – I’m bored. How was your day?

(18:12)

 **Stalker:** Nothing really worth mentioning. I had this encounter with an arsehole this afternoon, but other than that, life has been like a calm sea.

 **You:** Ooh, what did the arsehole do?

 **Stalker:** Besides being the arsehole that he is? Not too much – he’s all talk I think and just keeps up a good game.

 **You:** Still, if you talk about him you still makes him worth mentioning. Get what I’m saying?

(18:13)

 **Stalker:** I guess... I’ll just have to stop to talk about him them XD

 **You:** Indeed ;)

* * *

(14:09)

 **You:** U homophobic?

 **Stalker:** No

 **You:** Gay?

(14:12)

 **Stalker:** None of your business

 **You:** So yes then

(14:15)

 **Stalker:** Okay, fine, yes

(14:18)

 **You:** Have I seen you at Scandals?

 **Stalker:** Excuse me?

(14:19)

 **You:** Let me rephrase that. Are you one of my hook-ups who happened to get my number and are now stalking me??

 **Stalker:** Honey, I wouldn’t hook up with you even if someone paid me for it.

(14:21)

 **Stalker:** Disappointed?

(14:23)

 **You:** Honestly? No.

* * *

(18:31)

 **You:** I feel terrible, and I so fucked up

(18:45)

 **Stalker:** What did you do?

 **You:** I told you: I fucked up.

(18:47)

 **You:** Took it one step too far

(18:50)

 **Stalker:** Tell me what you did, Sebastian.

(18:52)

 **You:** It was meant to be harmless, or well, I was gonna throw a slushie at this boy’s clothes, but in the last second his boyfriend jumped in between, and the guy is so freaking short that he got it in his eyes, and there was rock salt in there, and it wasn’t meant for him and FUCK

 **Stalker:** Damn, okay, calm down.

 **Stalker:** I’m sure he’s fine

 **You:** How could you be sure of something like that?! You weren’t there, you have no clue!

(18:53)

 **Stalker:** Well, are you with the boy whom you hit with that slushie?

(18:55)

 **You:** No

(18:56)

 **Stalker:** Then how do you know that he /isn’t/ fine?

(18:57)

 **Stalker:** Maybe the guy you intended to hit took his boyfriend to the hospital or whatever, so the boyfriend is being taken care of?

 **Stalker:** The moral is, don’t push the panic button before you get your facts straight. Pun intended ;)

Sebastian ignored his phone and stalker in favour of an old whiskey that he had hidden in his closet at home. Not that anyone would really care to ransack his room for alcohol; in fact, he would probably go downstairs and pour the liquor in one of his father’s fine whiskey glasses and add some rocks to the drink, and all he would only get an eye-roll and a mutter –– if they even noticed him that was. But for the sake of at least _pretending_ to be rebellious, he still stored it where no one would find it. Yay him.

Downing regrets and sorrows never worked, however, and Sebastian knew that out of the countless times that he had tried; taking swings of whiskey only increased his misery. This time was slightly different, though, because this time he had someone to rant out his inner turmoil to –– this stalker whom he felt sort of fine sharing his weakest moment with. Or perhaps it was just the alcohol talking.

(20:46)

 **You:** BUT WHAT ID HE ISNT FINE?! Or isn’t goin gto be allright?!

(20:47)

 **Stalker:** Look, I’m sure he will be, maybe it’ll just take some time for the eyes to heal or so – nevertheless, I think the only thing you can do right now is /calm down/ and then go and apologise and explain yourself at the earliest convenience.

(20:49)

 **You:** U gotta be fuxking kidding me! I wasa gonna throww a slushie wit rock salt on his boyfrie ndto ruin his fucking clothes coz he is like fun to piss off – and I mean he doesnt usually react when im mean to the boyfriend but I fucking inured someune and how thehell do I explain that?!?!?!?!!!

 **Stalker:** Well not like you did it to me for a start.

(20:51)

 **Stalker:** And are you drunk?

(20:52)

 **You:** Im not!

(20:53)

 **You:** Im just tipssy

 **Stalker:** Well getting tipsy will not help anyone, so I suggest you stop drinking.

(20:54)

 **You:** Fucvk you

 **You:** No wiat! Im sorry!

He doesn’t ever really wait for a reply before he’s fumbling with his phone before finally calling his stalker out of sheer panic. Not that he will really think about it until tomorrow, but the call must have come was a great surprise to the stalker as well, seeing how the guy picked up after only one ring.

“Hi I’m sorry!” Sebastian blurs out in one go before his stalker can say anything. It’s followed by a moment of silence in which he can hear the other guy breathing into the phone, but otherwise nothing. Then it dawned on Sebastian what he had done exactly. “Shit,” he said. “I can’t believe I actually called you.”

There was a huff on the other side, like the stalker was trying to say ‘yeah, me neither!’ –– yet not actual words came from the other side of the phone.

“Look,” Sebastian continued instead. “I get that you wanna be all _mysterious_ and _secretive_ and whatever, I get that –– so don’t answer. But could you like, just stay on the line and listen? Just –– please?”

Sebastian swore that for a moment they both held their breaths; then the sound of someone moving around filled his ears, like the stalker was lying down on a bed or something. Then he could only hear the other’s breaths once more; an in- and exhale on the other side by someone whose face he didn’t know.

“So I’m gonna take that as a ‘fine’ or something?” he tried and got nothing in reply. “Seriously, you need to hang up like _now_ , or I’m just gonna keep on talking.”

Again, there was nothing, and Sebastian closed his eyes as he fell back onto his bed, trying to focus on the other guy’s breathing as a reassurance that he was actually heard.

“You know I hate talking to walls,” he started. “No _actual_ walls because I don’t talk to ‘em, but like –– figuratively speaking. Because it is like talking to a wall whenever I talk to my parents ‘cause they never actually answer, and you’re not gonna answer now either. But I like, _agreed_ to that, so I guess I’m just gonna trick myself into believing that you’re actually listening, you know? Cause you usually answer whenever I text, and I think it’s because you like to have the last word and show how smart you are, but you also seem to _care_ enough to answer and are honest enough to tell when you don’t know stuff, and I like that.

“And I do so much stupid shit. And no one seems to stop me –– like I think you would have tried if I told you, but I didn’t ‘cause I knew you’da try to talk me out of it. But, like, the other guys just went with the slushie idea. They didn’t know about the salt, though, but they still went with it, and it really makes me wonder _why_. I mean Blaine is their friend, but I thought Kurt was too, and they knew yet they didn’t say anything. Okay, like, some looked very pissed off at me, and they knew I’d give ‘em hell if they spoke up, but shouldn’t friends speak up anyway? I’m no expert, I don’t have friends, I have _contacts_ –– but still I’d like to think that friends would do stuff like that, right? And _fucking hell I threw a slushie at Blaine_! God, he must still be in the fucking hospital, and his scream was agonising and Kurt’s face when he fell down, and I fucking did that! How do I apologise for _that_ –– I fucking hurt somebody! And even if I _did_ say how sorry I am it’s not like they’re gonna listen to me because _why should they_?! I mean I wouldn’t listen to me! All that comes out of my mouth is cruel and condescending, and even when it’s not people just think it is, and I get why they do that but still!” Sebastian’s voice broke, and it felt like his whole body was in pain; although, he hadn’t actually done anything more that to lie on the bed and _talk_. But he had never said any of these things out loud –– and to finally say these words was tearing him apart from the inside and out. He could feel the actual wetness in his eyes, and he didn’t dare to speak again because he just knew that the stalker would hear just how close to crying he really was.

And the stalker stayed silent. But he also stayed. Sebastian could hear his rhythmic breathing –– inhale, exhale –– the calming sounds of living. And he knew that the stalker could hear him too: his hiccups of a breath that came just a bit short of a sob. But for some reason it was fine –– soothing even –– to hear another just breathing on the other side of a phone. Sebastian knew that he was there, knew that he would listen and _only_ listen without a word of accusation or question. And it was fucking nice to know.

“Thanks,” he mumbled once his breathing was somewhat under control, and he was certain that his voice wasn’t going to break again. “… and sorry for just callin’ you like that. Bye,” he added after moment of consideration before hanging up.

Looking up at the ceiling for a moment and listening to the silence that rang through his house (save for the wind that made the windows clatter a little from time to time), Sebastian realised that he was much calmer than before. He still dreaded tomorrow; having to face the Warblers would not be easy, and he was absolutely certain that any glimmer of liking anyone had felt for him before this god-awful evening would be gone by now. The thought made his stomach twist in a most unpleasant way, and Sebastian rolled over to his side and buried his face into the pillow, hoping that he could just escape reality for a while.

Then his phone beeped, signalling that he had a new text.

More out of habit than an actual desire to read what it said, Sebastian turned his head, so he could glance at the text with one eye while the other eye’s view was still blocked by his soft pillow.

(21:17)

 **Stalker:** I will always listen to what you have to say

Almost like a spell was cast upon him, Sebastian felt a sudden warmth rush through him, and he cracked up in a smile through his tears. This boy, this little textactive _stalker_ had somehow managed to wiggle his way closer to Sebastian than anyone had ever attempted to do before –– and that simply by texting. And, perhaps most surprisingly of all, Sebastian wasn’t scared by the vulnerability of his position. In fact, he felt strangely content to have someone to talk –– and _just_ talk –– to.

He didn’t write a reply. It was late, and sleep had started to claim him. And besides, he was quite sure that his stalker already knew how thankful he actually was to him.

* * *

The days following the ‘Bad Slushie Disaster’ (dear God, that was _actually_ what the Warblers had decided to call it) turned out to run more smoothly than Sebastian had ever expected. Slightly hung over, he had made his way to Dalton with a somewhat decent apology up his sleeve that he was going to present to the group in the right moment in order to at least clear _their_ conscience. But that moment never came. Instead each and every Warbler treated him like absolutely nothing had happened the day prior –– except for one or two glares that were being sent his way when a boy thought that he wasn’t looking.

It felt like a slap to the face.

Sebastian wasn’t going to let the thought show, though, and so he kept up his façade and smirked and bossed around like usual, daring someone to challenge his authority. No one did, but he didn’t expect anyone to actually do so by now.

Still, because he was an emotional wreck at times, as well as angry and disappointed, he couldn’t help but to tell his stalker all about it.

(17: 30)

 **You:** It’s maddening. They’re just gonna pretend like I /didn’t/ send their favourite lead singer to a hospital yesterday!

 **Stalker:** You’re sure that the guy went to the hospital?

(17:31)

 **You:** Yeah, I remember someone from ND calling 911 when we were leaving, and I also overheard a couple of guys talking about it. One’s dad seemed to work at the hospital and said that Blaine was alright – thank god.

 **Stalker:** Well, that’s a relief :)

 **You:** Definitely.

 **You:** But I still don’t get why they won’t call me out on my shit.

(17:32)

 **Stalker:** Maybe they feel just as guilty as you do?

 **You:** Maybe. But if that were actually true, I think we would have had some sort of open discussion on how to redeem ourselves because that’s just how mushy these guys are.

(17:33)

 **You:** Instead they all pretend like absolutely nothing happened yesterday.

 **Stalker:** Would you rather have them shouting at you?

 **You:** I don’t know!

(17:34)

 **You:** Well sort of, actually!

(17:36)

 **Stalker:** Never thought I’d see the day Sebastian Smythe would want to be lectured XD

(17:40)

 **You:** Shut up

(17:42)

 **You:** It’s not like I want it – it’s just that I DON’T want people to brush the shit I do under the rug because that’s just showing exactly how little they actually care that I am going to hell one day. I’m not an idiot – like I know that I am mean and do awful things even as I’m in the middle of doing them. But no one has ever stopped me, and it’s either they’re afraid of me or they just don’t care.

(17:45)

 **Stalker:** And you’re afraid to find out which of these statements is actually true, aren’t you?

The words made Sebastian pause for a moment and look away from his phone screen and out the window. It was cloudy, much like his mind, and he gulped before reading the message again. It was frightening how good this boy was at reading him… Yesterday evening’s tipsy revelation came to mind again before Sebastian decided to actually answer.

(17:52)

 **You:** You act like you know me

 **Stalker:** I think I’m starting to :)

 **You:** You say that like it’s a good thing :P

(17:54)

 **Stalker:** Well, maybe I think it is

 **Stalker:** And besides – what kind of awful stalker would I be if I didn’t know my victim?

 **You:** Should I start fearing for my life a little?

 **Stalker:** That, dearest Sebastian, is for me to know and for you to find out.

(17:57)

 **You:** Oh god, I’ve created a monster

(17:58)

 **Stalker:** Please refrain from taking all the credit, you egocentric arsehat.

 **You:** Wow, you do know me ;D

 **Stalker:** It’s terrible how I can see your smug smirk through a freaking emoticon…

Sebastian was potentially grinning like a madman at his phone by now, but thankfully he was alone.

* * *

 

Santana Lopez barging through the doors and almost showing off her (he sure hoped not non-existent) underwear was not what Sebastian expected. But if their little show-down taught him anything it was that:

A) If he was a straight guy, he would developed half a crush on her already, and

B) He should never let his guard down around the New Directions ever again. They are whimsical to the point of madness.

This conclusion was proven to be legitimate when the ND asked for the Warblers to pay them a visit at their shabby school after hours. The only reason why Sebastian actually humoured them was the combination of suspicion that he felt toward Santana, along with the ridiculous sliver of hope that he could try and get into his Warblers’ good graces again. But of course the trip was, in that aspect, very counterproductive.

Never had he expected the Latina strap a recording device under her freaking boob. How she even managed to do that without it showing in the oh-so-very revealing clothes she had worn at the time he didn’t even want to know –– but he did know that if it wasn’t for the fact that he actually feared that they would press charges he would probably have admired the slyness of her.

Then Kurt Hummel did something that Sebastian would have never expected. Hell, if he had paid attention, he would have probably seen the glares Kurt’s fellow glee club members sent his way, as the blue-eyed boy tossed the cassette tape to him. As it was, though, his focus was only on Kurt and then the tape, and back to Kurt again. If he knew what was good for him, he should have gone up and left as soon as he got the only thing that caused him to take a seat in the first place, but for some reason he couldn’t make himself rise. Instead, he sat like chained to his seat and watched New Directions pull off their emotional performance, and later witnessed how Trent, followed by the rest of the Warblers, joined ND on the stage. It felt like a stab to the gut to watch it all –– yet he still couldn’t find it in himself to move.

When the whole thing was finally over, most Warblers filtered out and left to go home, or to their dorms, although Sebastian saw Trent, Jeff and Nick lingering a little longer, all talking to Kurt, just before he left. Everyone looked so fucking smug in the way they all seemed to believe that they had finally gotten to him, and Sebastian felt like screaming.

Thankfully, he had taken his own car to McKinley, and he quickly got in and left (something that he was certain that some Warblers noticed and would share with each other) and drove blindly until he finally parked in a deserted lot at some Lima-loserian supermarket. Only then did he allow himself to scream, slamming his fist onto the steering wheel (but only once because it hurt like hell) and then leaning his forehead against the wheel instead, his voice becoming more quiet with every minute, for he didn’t have the energy to keep it up. He felt drained, ridiculed, _pathetic_ and so, so lonely.

In all cheesy honesty, Sebastian didn’t have the faintest clue how long he sat there in the parking lot, heavy huffs filling the air whilst he willed himself not to cry. The other day had been a low point, and he had been drinking –– today he had no such excuse. Sooner than he had expected however, the sun began to set, and Sebastian tried willing himself to shake it off. He had a two-hour drive back home ahead of him, and he had no clue where he was. Thank God for GPS though. He came home late for dinner, and his mother informed him that they’ve saved a plate he could pop into the microwave. No questions of his whereabouts, why he was late or any such thing asked. How considerate.

The first thing he did was to strip out of his uniform and take a shower –– to wash off whatever germs McKinley left him with he told himself. As he put on a pair of jeans afterward, he transferred his phone from blazer to his pocket, absentmindedly checking it to see if someone had actually tried to reach him.

Someone had. And not just any someone –– but one of a stalkerish kind.

(15:56)

 **Stalker:** I feel like I’ve run a marathon or something and then ended up with a medal. Go me!

(16:02)

 **Stalker:** So how was your day?

(16:20)

 **Stalker:** Sebastian?

(16:41)

 **Stalker:** Are you okay? Did something happen?

(17:18)

 **Stalker:** You usually don’t take this long to answer.

(17:20)

 **Stalker:** Even when you’re intoxicated

 **Stalker:** God, sorry, bad attempt of a joke

(17:39)

 **Stalker:** But really, how are you?

The one sided conversation filled him with a strange fluttering warmth, and he couldn’t help smiling even though he still felt like shit inside. Just then his phone vibrated in his hand, indicating a new message.

(18:08)

 **Stalker:** Okay, it’s fine if you don’t want to talk, I’m sorry for being so pushy – I just like, get like that when I’m worried. Sorry.

Sebastian wrote back quickly from where he was standing by his bed in only pants and trousers, hair still wet from his shower.

(18:09)

 **You:** No need to worry

 **You:** You’re right, something did happen, and then I totally forgot my phone. Sorry, I wasn’t ignoring you

 **Stalker:** And you’re okay??

There was an immediate reply which made Sebastian smile again.

(18:13)

 **You:** I’m okay. Lots better now, actually :)

 **Stalker:** Well, that’s a relief!

(18:15)

 **Stalker:** Here I thought I would actually have to stalk you down.

(18:18)

 **You:** Isn’t it your job to know exactly where I am at all times and, like, take creepy pictures of me through my bedroom window or something?

 **Stalker:** Oh I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that this was a part of the contract when I took the job.

 **You:** Should have read the fine print, babe. Or gotten a lawyer.

(18:21)

 **Stalker:** Do you /want/ me to climb through your window right now and slap you??

(18:22)

 **You:** Wait, you’re right outside?!

(18:23)

 **You:** CREEP!!!

(18:24)

 **Stalker:** Fuck you, Sebastian

He absolutely loved how their banter came so easily, his and his stalker’s. And also how the text ‘Fuck you, Sebastian’ looked endearing to him, and he could almost feel the other person’s grin across the screen.

They continued their conversation while he went downstairs again and into the kitchen where his father was currently slicing up an apple. Without saying a word, Sebastian took his plate out of the fridge and then let it spin around in the microwave as he leaned against the counter, waiting and texting. He must have made a noise or something because, miraculously, his father suddenly looked up from the cutting board and eyed him.

“Who you’re talking to?” his father said in a business-like voice, but a linger of curiosity in his face gave him away as Sebastian looked up at him.

“A friend,” he answered simply and then waited a moment for a reaction but when none was found, he turned back to his phone.

“An actual friend or a _friend_?”

Sebastian didn’t actually have a clue if his dad was referring to ‘a _friend_ ’ as in the one with benefits or the one that you put the word ‘boy’ in front of, but he honestly couldn’t even tell which option would have been more successful in annoying the crap out of him.

The microwave beeped just then, and Sebastian quickly took the plate out, the porcelain still a bit too hot to just grab, but he ignored it. Grabbing his phone, fork and knife, he quickly said, “A friend who cares,” before practically storming off, running away from conversations he didn’t want to have. Back in his room, he quickly settled down by his desk.

(18:42)

 **You:** So my dad just tried to talk to me

 **Stalker:** … And??

(18:43)

 **You:** I may have been a liiittle bit of a jerk.

(18:44)

 **Stalker:** How?

 **You:** Well I was fixing dinner and then he asked who I was texting to (i.e. YOU), and I may have said “a friend who cares” before storming off with my food.

(18:46)

 **Stalker:** Yeah, maybe a little bit of a jerk right then and there, Bas :P

Sebastian let out a small groan before typing in a reply.

(18:48)

 **You:** You think I did wrong?

(18:50)

 **Stalker:** Not necessarily. I mean, I’m not there and I don’t know what happened prior to this – so generally I think that it’s up to you to determine if you did wrong or right actually :P

 **Stalker:** I mean do you feel like you had to do this because you needed to make a point or was just out of anger?

(18:52)

 **You:** I don’t know…

 **Stalker:** Then you should figure that one out first ;)

 **You:** Oh what would I ever do without you, honey?  <3

(18:54)

 **Stalker:** I’d say that you’d do fine, but then I think I would be lying XD

(18:55)

 **You:** Jackass XD

* * *

Just when Sebastian had thought that he had more or less managed to suck the poison out of his life and move onto higher ground, he heard about Dave Karofsky, and it felt like his world tipped once more. His stalker insisted that what happened wasn’t his fault, and to some extent, yeah, perhaps that was true, but Sebastian could still have been a lot nicer than he had been toward Bear Cub.

It also became evident that he was only starching on the surface of his missteps before –– he had actual apologies to make to the list of people before he could even consider moving on. First and foremost were his Warblers. It had been a hard thing to do and almost took all for Sebastian’s gathered wits and courage to stand there, in front of them and say that he had realised his mistakes and was now really ashamed of the way he had treated the group, the club and each individual. What had been perhaps even harder was to not criticise them for not speaking up against him –– the fact that they had actually let him do all these things was what buggered him the most. But then again, he couldn’t expect that people would be strong enough not to let him get away with his bullshit because not everyone was made of confidence and self-knowledge. He told them that they needed to let go of Michael Jackson (he ensured that the New Directions would be informed) and then he openly asked then what they wanted to do.

The silence that had followed was not at all merciful to Sebastian’s nerves. Then, after what felt like forever, Trent stood up.

“I don’t really care too much right now about what we sing,” he said, his eyes wandering from one Warbler to another before finally landing on Sebastian. “But I think that no matter if we win or lose we could take donations to Lady Gaga’s Born This Way fund –– and perhaps dedicate the performance to Dave Karofsky.”

Sebastian was completely taken by surprise by Trent’s suggestion; as far as he knew, none of the Warblers had any idea about Dave’s existence, nevermind any sort of relationship the two might have shared. Turned out that some _didn’t_ know what Trent was on about; in fact, Flint even asked what Trent was talking about.

Letting go of Sebastian’s eyes, Trent turned to the rest of them and explained who Dave Karofsky was: a closed kid who had also been the reason why Kurt Hummel had transferred to Dalton last year (Whoa, Kurt had been at Dalton? This particular tidbit was news to Sebastian...), but who after making a formal apology to Kurt had more or less transferred himself to another school this year and then, around Valentine, had been outed and had tried to take his life.

After his speech, Trent turned to Sebastian again, his eyes much harder than Sebastian had ever seen them before. “So what do you say?” he asked.

Sebastian shrugged. “What does the group say?”

Trent immediately picked up where Sebastian left off. “All those in favour raise their hands,” he declared, turning to the group again and then shot his own hand straight up in the air. More hands followed, including Sebastian’s because it was actually a good idea, no matter how cheesy it sounded, and he liked that he could do something to make up for the mess he indirectly caused without having to explain to anyone about his personal involvement. When each and every Warbler had raised their hand (some staring at Sebastian in surprise while doing so), Trent turned again with a smug look on his face that then quickly turned into surprise when he saw Sebastian stating his opinion.

“Guess it’s decided then,” Sebastian said, letting his hand fall to his side again. “We’re dedicating our performance to Dave Karofsky and will try to raise money for Lady Gaga’s fund.” The room had never seemed so full of smiles as in that moment. “But we still need to come up with a setlist.”

* * *

The very same day, Sebastian contacted ND and asked them to come and meet him at the Lima Bean. He felt physically ill to do so, but it had to be done. He didn’t know if it was to try to take his mind of things or whatever, but he brought his homework with him. It served its purpose as a distraction, however, as the New Directions chose to be half an hour late to the time he set, and his Stalker hadn’t answered their conversation after:

(15:14)

 **Stalker:** So what are you doing today?

(15:23)

 **You:** Redeeming myself

He had honestly expected question of why and how, but all he got was silence. Maybe the other boy was busy and hadn’t found the time or his phone had died or something. But still, it hurt.

When Blaine, Kurt, Santana and that other girl who Sebastian couldn’t remember the name of came, it all went on pretty quickly. He made his apologies, told them of the Warblers’ plans all while trying to be as sincere as possible and not hide away. Kurt’s comment about waiting for the punch line was like a punch itself, but somehow Sebastian liked to think that it gave him a chance to show that he wasn’t out to make fun of them or playing some cruel game. If anything, he felt like he was done playing at all.

Once they had left, he felt strangely liberated and dreadful all at once: a combination that he reckoned wouldn’t leave him until after Sectionals when this business was finally all over and done with. He stayed about two hours more before finally completing his Calculus homework and then started to pack up. Just as he put his last belonging in his bag and rose for his seat did he feel the blissful vibration in his pocket. In one swift motion, he bumped his bag on the table and then pulled out his phone, hoping with every fibre of his being that it was who he thought it would be.

It was.

(17:37)

 **Stalker:** Oh? From what?

 **Stalker:** And how does one do that exactly?

 **Stalker:** Because call me crazy, but I got this mental image of you sacrificing the blood of a virgin or some wicked stuff like that, but I don’t think that’s the way to go.

Sebastian chuckled at the flow of messages that were just streaming in.

(17:39)

 **Stalker:** Please don’t get any ideas. Virgins are never the answer.

 **You:** You make it sound like you speak from experience

(17:42)

 **Stalker:** Oh most definitely I dooo~

 **Stalker:** Scary stalker, remember?

(17:45)

 **You:** So what? Your battle plan is to fool your victims into thinking you’re their friend before surprising them by scarifying their virgin blood?

 **You:** I am so not a virgin btw

(17:46)

 **Stalker:** … and you make a point of telling the world so, oh honey I know you’re not. And I /did/ say that virgin blood was never the answer if you get what I mean :D

(17:47)

 **You:** Your creep is showing

 **Stalker:** Why thank you for noticing! ^^

(17:49)

 **Stalker:** But in all seriousness, how did that redeeming you talked about go?

(17:52)

 **You:** I just finished phase two of three

(17:53)

 **You:** It didn’t go straight to hell, so I think it was sort of fine

(17:54)

 **Stalker:** There’s three phases? Which include?

 **You:** Apology #1, apology #2 and then a grand finale XD

(17:56)

 **Stalker:** Sounds very well planned out I dare say

 **You:** I dare agree with you

(17:57)

 **You:** Jumping into a car now so I won’t be able to reply for a while!

(17:59)

 **Stalker:** Glad you aren’t texting and driving!  <3 Really, I’d hate for an accident to happen

* * *

The days leading up to Sectionals were filled with extra rehearsals because, like the task master Sebastian could be, he wanted every single thing to be ship-shape and make it look like they had practiced this setlist since Regionals instead of coming up with it just before the due date. No one complained, though, and the Warblers gave their all during practice without having to be told again. When the day of Regionals finally came, there was an air of excitement around them as a group, and Sebastian could tell that at this point it didn’t really matter to him if they won or lost; he would go home feeling content either way.

Suddenly however, about five minutes before they were to go in stage, Trent walked up to him and gently poked his side, calling his attention. Sebastian had been texting his stalker, who hadn’t actually been told that they were dedicating their performance to Dave, but nevertheless _did_ get to hear all about Sebastian’s nervousness.

“I just wanted to say,” Trent said when Sebastian looked up at him, “that I think it’s great that you let us do this even if we might lose.”

Sebastian found himself looking dumbfound at Trent for a moment before he could find his composure once more. Then he just shrugged like it was nothing. “It was a group decision,” he dismissed.

“Still,” Trent urged. “I’m glad that you listened.”

Now what actually made Sebastian smile a little. “You sound surprised that I did.”

“Yes, well,” Trent said, shifting from one foot to another. “You don’t come off as someone who would care too much of what other people think –– no offence.”

“None taken. But there’s a difference between caring about people’s opinions and listening to their ideas, you know,” Sebastian said. It was time for them to go on stage so he left Trent hanging there, walking out and taking his spot in the formation, the others trailing after him. Just seconds before the curtain was about to open he spoke, clear enough for everyone behind the curtain to hear him, but not loud enough for those beyond: “It doesn’t matter if we win or lose right now –– what matters is that we put on one hell of a show.”

Then the curtains opened, and he put on a smile and faced the spotlights.

* * *

(16:54)

 **Stalker:** I’m sorry you lost, but I think what you did for Dave was great :)

Sebastian started down at his phone, not quite believing in what it was showing him.

(17:01)

 **You:** YOU’RE HERE?!

(17:02)

 **Stalker:** Obviously ;)

 **You:** Where are you?!

(17:04)

 **Stalker:** I thoughtwe had established that I was to remain secretive and mysterious or whatever :P

 **You:** I don’t fucking care I wanna meet you!

(17:05)

 **You:** What the fuck do you look like?!

It was all in vain, and not to mention most definitely pathetic, how Sebastian was scanning the crowd around him, trying to find a boy who fitted his (admittedly very lacking) mental image of his stalker –– or even a boy his age who was just looking at his phone. It was not an easy task with everyone in the building moving about; people leaving their seats and show choir members either congratulating each other for a job well done (the Warblers and ND –– who were more like roaring in victory but whatever) or wallowing in their defeat (that other show choir that Sebastian didn’t give a rat’s arse about).

(17:09)

 **Stalker:** Sebastian, I don’t think it’s a good idea

 **You:** Why not?!

(17:12)

 **Stalker:** Just trust me on this one, okay?

 **You:** Fuck no

(17:13)

 **You:** You did not just tell me that we’re in the same building and not let me see you

He felt like a snow plough as he made his way through the sea of people, ignoring the sound of Jeff and Trent calling his name, asking where the hell he was going. He just wanted to meet this person eye to eye, just once, and frankly he couldn’t care less about how rude and desperate he looked like to other people because that was _exactly_ what he felt.

(17:16)

 **You:** Just please let me see you

He walked into much less crowded corridor backstage, mostly filled with members of show choirs and people who had some relation to them –– a lot of the people were from New Directions, and they gave him everything from angry glares to smug faces to somewhat unsteady smiles as he passed them, but Sebastian only half noticed.

(17:20)

 **Stalker:** No

(17:21)

 **You:** Please

It might have been his imagination, but he could swear to God that he heard a phone beep as soon as he sent that message. As he was reaching the end of the corridor, his heart was beating faster and faster, and he looked around him into the different rooms, though some doors were closed that he didn’t bother to open.

(17:23)

 **Stalker:** No

Out of a moment of insanity and perhaps also selfishness, Sebastian ignored whatever he was told and dialled the stalker’s number.

When he heard the ring tone of iPhone’s default he could feel his stomach drop.

It seemed that the sound came from one of the closed doors that he passed earlier and Sebastian turned around, trying to follow the sound the best he could. Just then it stopped and he looked down to his phone to find that the call had been dismissed, but he think he knew which room it came from actually and without really thinking about it he burst the door opened… and found himself in New Direction’s green room. Every single fucking head turned toward him (although there weren’t too many inside, thankfully) and eyed him critically. He saw Blaine, Kurt, Rachel and a few others whose names he hadn’t bothered to learn all watching him, and for a moment he just stood there in the doorway, not knowing what to do. He must have heard wrong, hadn’t he? Because none of these people could be the guy with whom he had texted almost constantly for the better part of his school year, right?

“Sorry,” he managed to say after a moment. “Wrong room.” Blaine nodded in understanding but said nothing, and Kurt looked strangely flushed, which Sebastian would have probably found odd if his own feathers weren’t so ruffled. “Congratulations by the way,” he said just before he turned and closed the door behind him, feeling utterly mortified to have been seen so out of confidence. If anything, this was a fucking sign that he should give up his search right fucking now because it couldn’t _possibly_ get worse than this, could it?!

With heavy steps, Sebastian walked to the Warblers ride back to Dalton –– turned out that he was the last person to board the bus, and they had been waiting for him while he was running around the premises.

“Where did you disappear to?” Nick asked in a rather irritated tone, as soon as Sebastian sat down next to the boy since it was the first empty seat he could find.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“We were almost gonna leave without you because you wouldn’t pick up your phone or answer any of our texts –– besides, I do think that, as the Captain, you have a certain obligation to pick up your phone!”

It was true, Sebastian had purposely ignored every text and dismissed every incoming call that weren’t from the stalker since those were the only ones he had been interested in. Maybe it had been a dick move, but Sebastian was feeling sort of miserable already, and this did nothing to help him. It must have shown on his face, despite his best intentions to restrain his feelings because when he signed and looked up, Nick the Warbler’s expression went from irritated to surprised to finally concerned in two seconds flat.

“Did something happen?” Nick asked much gentler.

“No,” Sebastian replied flatly and then turned away, marking the end of their conversation. For the rest of their journey back to Dalton, Sebastian didn’t say a word and most definitely ignored the buzzing of his phone and the questioning look Nick would give him every now and then.

* * *

(17:27)

 **Stalker:** I’m sorry, Sebastian

(17:36)

 **Stalker:** Look, it /really/ wasn’t a good time to meet, just trust me, okay?

(17:43)

 **Stalker:** I didn’t mean to upset you or anything, I just wanted to tell you that I thought what you did was great, and that’s all.

(18:01)

 **Stalker:** I never wanted to upset you.

(18:12)

 **Stalker:** I really am sorry

(19:14)

 **Stalker:** Okay, you don’t want to talk to me right now... I’m sorry for being so pushy

(19:15)

 **Stalker:** I’ll shut up now.

Only when they had returned to Dalton did Sebastian look at his phone. His minor emotional breakdown of embracement and frustration had slowly ebbed away during the ride back, and now Sebastian just felt drained. Still, he could tell that Stalker was probably sewing his lip off or something out of worry.

(20:23)

 **You:** It’s fine, I get it

The reply came almost instantly.

(20:24)

 **Stalker:** I’m really, really sorry for making you upset, Sebastian

(20:25)

 **You:** Yeah, I might have guessed that from your previous texts ;)

 **Stalker:** Are you making fun of me?

(20:27)

 **You:** Nooo

 **You:** Maybe a little ;P

 **Stalker:** You’re such an arsehole, you know that, right?

(20:28)

 **You:** Only because you are nice enough to remind me~

 **Stalker:** What am I going to do with you, huh?

(20:30)

 **You:** Well, putting an end to rhetorical questions would be a good start~

 **Stalker:** Cocky as ever I see… But seriously – we’re ok?

 **You:** We’re ok

(20:33)

 **You:** Though, I think I am in a position to ask you something that you’ll answer truthfully – seeing how you made me run around the auditorium at the expense of any old ladies whom I might have knocked over.

(20:34)

 **Stalker:** Depends on what you’re gonna ask…

(20:35)

 **You:** Come on----

(20:36)

 **Stalker:** Just ask and we’ll go from there. But if I don’t like it, you get to ask something else, just like before

 **You:** Fair enough.

 **You:** Could you describe yourself to me? Your appearance, I mean

(20:38)

 **You:** Because it proved to be rather difficult to look for someone when you have no idea what they look like.

Sebastian knew that he was pushing it, but after today he couldn’t bring himself to care too much about it. And he really did want to have a better mental picture of his stalker because it was really starting to bother him that he couldn’t even visualise the other guy.

So he waited for the reply. And waited. Surely, if Stalker didn’t want to answer, he would have asked for a different question already, right? Right. So Sebastian had nothing to worry about. Still, after what seemed like forever –– but was probably closer to ten minutes –– Sebastian felt like he was climbing walls while awaiting a text.

And then it finally came. It was annoyingly short to have taken so long.

(20:52)

 **Stalker:** I guess you deserve that :P Ok, I know that you’re taller than me but only by like, two inches or so. And I have brown hair – not a short haircut, but it can’t be tied up in a ponytail either if you get my drift. I’m caucasian. My eyes are blue, usually. I have long legs and, if I may say so myself, a fine arse.

(20:54)

 **You:** Took you long enough

 **Stalker:** Why, were you waiting? ;)

 **You:** And you call me cocky

 **Stalker:** XD

 **You:** How can eyes be /usually/ blue, btw?

(20:56)

 **Stalker:** They change depending on how much sunlight is out there. Think of it like getting a tan, but it’s eyes instead of skin

 **You:** That’s really weird

(20:57)

 **Stalker:** Oh shut it – change should be embraced and celebrated

 **You:** Yeah yeah, whatever you say~

(20:58)

 **Stalker:** Dick.

(21:00)

 **Stalker:** So what are you doing now anyway?

(21:02)

 **You:** Just gathering up some things at school, and then I’ll head home

 **Stalker:** Aren’t the Warblers doing something to mourn their loss?

(21:05)

 **You:** If so, then they’re doing that without me – but I did make it clear before we went on the stage today that it didn’t matter all too much if we won or lost as long as we put on a great show – which I think we did, so I’m happy.

(21:06)

 **Stalker:** I see…

 **Stalker:** You’re not too close to any of them, are you?

 **You:** I might have been tipsy at the time, but I do recall telling you that I don’t have friends

 **Stalker:** “Just contacts,” I know. But I thought you were exaggerating.

(21:07)

 **You:** I exaggerate my interest in people to get into their pants, not my own pity party – the state I refuse to acknowledge for most part.

 **You:** In fact, I think you’re the first one to have ever heard of it. Feel special.

 **Stalker:** I always feel special when I get a text from you, and it’s not a cheesy pick-up line ;)

 **You:** Glad we’re on the same page.

(21:09)

 **Stalker:** But seriously. Haven’t you tried to become friends with some of them?

 **You:** Can’t say that I have made an effort, no.

 **Stalker:** Then why don’t you try?

(21:10)

 **You:** Because maybe I don’t want to – ever thought of that?

(21:11)

 **Stalker:** Yes, I did actually. But I also know that no matter how strong you are, you will always be twice as strong with each real friend you have to support you. And they usually make life more fun too :)

(21:12)

 **You:** No need for cheesy pick-up lines, you are super-cheesy all by yourself!

 **Stalker:** Ha ha.

 **Stalker:** But really. You should at least try, you know.

 **You:** Oh thanks for the advice, I’d love to!

 **Stalker:** Your sarcasm is too radiant. Please tone it down.

(21:13)

 **You:** ;)

 **You:** But no, I don’t see the point in trying – and even if I did make some attempt, I seriously doubt that any Warbler would take it seriously.

 **Stalker:** What makes you say that?

(21:14)

 **You:** Come on – it is common knowledge that I’m only nice when I want something :P

 **Stalker:** Well, that /is/ true.

(21:15)

 **Stalker:** But say if a Warbler made an actual attempt to become friends with you, would you let him try?

(21:17)

 **You:** I guess?

 **Stalker:** I can tell right now that you wouldn’t

 **Stalker:** You should, though. There’s nothing wrong with being friendlier to people.

 **You:** Ok, fine. I hereby promise that if a guy tries to become friends with me, I will give him a chance!

(21:18)

 **Stalker:** :D

 **You:** I seriously doubt that it’s gonna happen though

 **Stalker:** Well, you’ll never know now, will you~?

* * *

If Sebastian and his stalker had texted a lot before, then it was _nothing_ compared to now. Sebastian’s hand was practically glued to his phone and didn’t do much else on it besides texting Stalker. Before he had held several conversations up at once –– mostly between himself and guys on his ‘to fuck’ list, but recently he finally admitted to himself that he really couldn’t give a damn about those guys anymore. So in response he had stopped wasting energy on something he was no longer interested in. All that focus came instead to be manifested on whatever Stalker had written.

“Who can be so special?” a voice asked beside him one day, and Sebastian honest to God almost jumped to the ceiling when he found Trent suddenly sitting next to him on the couch in one of Dalton’s many common rooms –– one that Sebastian had very much thought to be alone in. But Trent just smiled a little when Sebastian met his eyes, saying nothing about Sebastian’s oblivious state.

“A friend,” Sebastian then managed to get out, sounding somewhat composed. Trent didn’t seem to buy it if his critical expression was anything to go by. “No really,” Sebastian insisted and then glanced down at his phone before making one of those impulsive, reckless decisions about his privacy. “Here,” he said and handed the phone to Trent.

The move seemed to surprise Trent just as much as it surprised Sebastian himself, but after a quick glance from the phone to Sebastian and back, Trent accepted the phone and quickly skimmed through the conversation.

“Why is the contact named ‘Stalker’?” Trent asked, his eyes still on the screen.

“Because he is my stalker.”

Now Trent looked up at that. “You have a stalker,” he deadpanned. “Sebastian, that’s nothing to joke about –– this is serious!”

“It’s nothing like that,” Sebastian promised and took the phone back, feeling the need to protect the conversations it held. “I don’t know exactly who he is, so jokingly I call him my stalker since he won’t give me a name.”

“But he knows yours.” It wasn’t even a question.

“Yes.”

“I still don’t think it’s the safest way of conversation –– you could get hurt,” Trent insisted, but Sebastian just rolled his eyes. He was getting really tired of this conversation.

“It doesn’t really matter what you think, though,” he said dismissively.

There was a moment of silence before Trent sighed and then spoke again, or more like mumbled to himself, “This was not how I planned for this conversation to go.”

Curious, Sebastian raised an eyebrow while Trent seemed to collect himself.

“I was gonna ask if you had any plans for the weekend?” finally came out, and Sebastian found himself staring dumbfounded at the other Warbler.

The words, “You can’t be serious,” left his mouth before he even knew how they got there, and Trent drew his mouth into a thin line.

“I’m sorry,” he then said, and that challenging little rebel who had made an appearance just before Regionals was back. “It was just a silly thought.” He made a move to rise, but Sebastian drabbed him by the arm, gently holding him in place.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I was just really surprised –– you’ve never seemed interested in knowing before.”

“It’s not _that_ kind of interest,” Trent said sharply, and Sebastian laughed.

“Believe me, Trent, if you had _that_ kind of interest for me not only I, but the whole school would have been aware of it within a day. Oh, and I would probably have told you not to bother within a week.” Perhaps, that wasn’t the nicest thing Sebastian could have said, but thankfully Trent brushed it off as Sebastian being, well, _Sebastian_.

“How assuring, I think. But anyway, what are you really doing?”

“Nothing in particular has been planned, but hey, it’s only Wednesday.”

“Well, Nick wanted to go to the movies this weekend with Jeff and yours truly, and I thought that you might want to join us?”

“Do they know that you’re asking me this?”

“Why, does it matter,” Trent asked, seeming a bit confused by the question.

“Well yeah,” Sebastian insisted.

“They do know, or, Jeff knows, and you know how they are like one mind at times, so yes they know.”

Sebastian wanted to ask why the sudden interest in having him to join them, but he figured that it would be pushing it too far, so instead he said, “Okay, sounds better than homework. Did Nick have a certain movie in mind?”

Trent lit up like a candle in response before going on and explaining that no, Nick didn’t and then asked what Sebastian wanted to see.

“Doesn’t really matter –– I’m not too much for action movies, but apart from that I don’t really care.”

“What’s your favourite genre then?”

“Psychological thrillers.”

“Is that even a genre?” Trent wanted to know.

“It is indeed. You’ve seen _Disturbia_ with that guy from _Transformers_?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s a psychological thriller.”

They talked a bit more about what was running right now in the cinemas before Sebastian got a new text.

(14: 16)

 **Stalker:** Your phone died on me or something?

For a moment Sebastian was torn between replying or continuing to talk to Trent, but before he could make a decision, Trent made it for him.

“I’ll let you get back to your stalker then,” he said with a pleasant smile and rose. “I’ll text you, alright?”

“Sounds good,” Sebastian replied with a smile of his own. Then Trent left the room.

(14:19)

 **You:** Not this time. But, like, a Warbler just asked if I wanted to join him and two others and go to the movies this weekend

 **Stalker:** Really?? Omg that’s great :D

(14:21)

 **You:** You sound far too surprised for my liking, man. Weren’t you the one who said that I’d “never know, it could happen” or something?

 **Stalker:** Yes, but I didn’t think it would happen so soon XP

 **You:** You say that like you had a finger in this

(14:22)

 **Stalker:** But what did you say???

(14:23)

 **You:** Well “yes”, duh

 **You:** And also that I like psychological thrillers.

(14:25)

 **Stalker:** Like Disturbia?

 **You:** Like Disturbia

* * *

 

True to his word, Trent texted the very same day and asked if Saturday evening was okay and if Sebastian wanted to eat something before the movie with them. Thinking _‘why the hell not?’_ Sebastian replied:

(15:14)

 **You:** Sure, anything but sushi.

(15:17)

 **Trent:** What’s wrong with sushi?

(15:18)

 **You:** Raw and eaten with chopsticks.

(15:19)

 **You:** And apparently you can’t stab a chopstick right through a piece either because it symbolises death or something

(15:23)

 **Trent:** Well that is almost a fair point. How do you feel about Mexican?

 **You:** ¡Fantástico!

 **Trent:** :D

* * *

Saturday approached with storm steps after that, and before Sebastian knew it, he was sitting around the table at some Mexican restaurant together with Trent, Nick and Jeff. Even though he did know, he still couldn’t help but wonder how the hell he ended up there. He didn’t say much at first, though, trying to follow the rule ‘say something nice –– or in your case not morally offending –– or say nothing at all,’ like Stalker had told him at some point during the week. He did laugh at Jeff’s ridiculous jokes however, mostly because they were absolutely ridiculous, and the others didn’t seem too bothered by his uncharacteristic silence after that. Still, Trent seemed like a man on a mission because he continually tried to drag Sebastian into the conversation by asking for opinions that Sebastian didn’t have and so on.

“I thought you had an opinion about everything,” he said at one point.

“Why would you think that? That’s stupid,” was Sebastian’s not so very decent reply, which he seemed to get away with, surprisingly enough. “Just because I often state my opinion, it doesn’t mean that I always have one. And making an opinion for the sake of just having one is just like flipping a coin and letting it decide. It holds no substance and is nothing but empty words.”

“Can I quote you on that next time Rockwell assigns us an essay?” Nick suddenly piped in, and Sebastian laughed a little.

“Sure.”

* * *

(21:43)

 **Stalker:** So what did you end up seeing?

(21:45)

 **You:** Brave. One guy had gotten this idea that I didn’t like horror because of my non-existent preference for action movies – he just didn’t want to watch one himself and wanted to drag me onto his side, so that majority wouldn’t rule. So then one of the others said, “BRAVE then?!” and wow that hair though.

 **Stalker:** “That hair”?

 **You:** Have you seen it?

 **Stalker:** No

(21:46)

 **You:** Then fucking do it. The animation is out of this world!!!!!

 **Stalker:** I’ll take your word for it ;)

(21:47)

 **Stalker:** Did you have fun though?

 **You:** Surprisingly enough, yes I did. They were nice to hang out with.

 **Stalker:** And you are gonna continue to do so?

 **You:** Well, we’re not swapping blood in some deserted classroom and then becoming blood brothers if that’s what you mean – but I’ll probably eat lunch with them tomorrow, so yes.

 **Stalker:** Well that’s reassuring. And you know that you’re only allowed to make bonding rituals with yours truly btw

(21:51)

 **You:** Good thing I wasn’t planning on it then!

 **Stalker:** Indeed  >XD

* * *

“You have an obsession, and I’m worried about you.”

Sebastian looked up at Trent’s concerned gaze with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“This guy you’re texting!” Trent gestured to the phone in Sebastian’s hand. “I mean he could be anyone! Doesn’t even have to be a guy, it could be a girl –– or a sixty-five year old lady for all you know!”

“Yeah, well I don’t think my grandma would do this, so at least that clears this one out,” Sebastian said with a smirk. Over the last few weeks, he had become unlikely friends with Trent –– much thanks to the sweetest Warbler’s persistent wish to get to know Sebastian, which sort of came out of the blue, though Sebastian wasn’t complaining. Trent could be fun to tease if nothing else because the guy didn’t need much at all to get worked up about something.

“This is no laughing matter, Sebastian!” Trent continued.

“Your way of dealing with it is rather funny to watch though.”

“Ha ha. But honestly, do you even know what this guy looks like?”

“Well, I did ask him, and he did give me a description,” Sebastian said.

“And how do you know that he wasn’t lying?”

This was really a conversation that Sebastian _didn’t_ want to have. It was not enough that he himself had constantly started to ask the same question every time he was trying to sleep, eat or do his homework, but now he also had to listen to Trent voicing his fears. Sebastian was well aware that he had become oh so emotionally attached to this person who kept texting him –– hell, he might be even a little bit attracted too (ok, maybe a lot) –– but he had no real power in this. It all lay in the hands of Stalker.

Trent must have noticed the shift in Sebastian judging by the way he had gone quiet, like he was waiting for Sebastian to gather his thoughts. It was nice.

“I don’t know,” Sebastian finally said but then continued before Trent could respond. “But I do know that this guy has been nothing but a friend to me this far –– never once has he demanded something that was too much to ask from me. And I know that his favourite colour is purple, and that he’s afraid of vampires and can play piano and doesn’t take my shit. Shouldn’t that be enough?” That was more a question to himself than to Trent if Sebastian were brutally honest with himself.

What if he was ugly, what if he really was some kind of creep who would follow Sebastian around everywhere, what if he was clingy, what if he had a beard and was fat and had greasy hair that hadn’t been washed for months, what if he was _old_?! Truth be told, Sebastian had grown quite fond of the mental image of his Stalker that was blossoming in his mind: a slim body but with firm muscles, chocolate brown hair, and warm smile. While he could never quite imagine the eyes that had been described to him, he pictured a boy who was either laughing fondly at Sebastian’s antics or giving him a glare to express his disapproval of what Sebastian had just said or done. What if that wasn’t real, and Stalker was somebody completely different??

In addition, _should that really matter all that much?_ Sebastian knew that he was a very ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ sort of guy, yet the person behind this number had managed to pry him open with words and only words and get him to respond without any physical contact whatsoever. That had to count for something, right?

“I don’t know, Sebastian, is it?” Trent asked, pulling Sebastian out of his whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

He sighed, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, and he wasn’t even sure if Trent heard him or not. He must have, however, because he put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder — an act that Sebastian found peculiar and odd and didn’t really know if he wanted to shake said hand off or not. He chose not to and met Trent’s gaze instead.

“It’s just that I don’t really know how these things work, and neither do you apparently,” Trent started. “And maybe it’s me being paranoid, but it feels like you can get hurt if you hand over too much of yourself to someone you don’t know.”

 _But I_ do _know him!_ Sebastian’s mind screamed, but he found himself incapable to say it, not knowing if he was lying to himself or not. “When you put it like that…” he mumbled instead.

“Why don’t you at least meet up with him, hm? You could do it in some place public, like the Lima Bean or something where there are people around, just to be sure?”

“I have a feeling that he won’t agree to that, though.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know!”

“Then it can’t hurt to try now, can it?”

“Why are you making sense, Trent? This isn’t you. Were you bodysnatched by an alien?”

As promised, Trent blushed angrily at Sebastian before saying, “I make sense all the time, you are just too stupid to see it!”

“Why I think that’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me!” Sebastian exclaimed, rather delighted how easy it was to change the subject. “I’m hurt, Trent, _hurt!_ ”

“Well, it serves you right, Mister!”

“I should give you a step-by-step ‘Insults for Dummies’ handbook for Christmas because your game is pathetic.”

“I happen to like it the way it is, so no need, but thanks for your concern, Sebastian.”

That made him laugh, and just then Trent looked at the time before saying that they had to get going to their classes now if they didn’t want to be late. “And don’t forget to make a date with that guy!” Trent exclaimed loudly and clearly in the corridor just as their ways parted, making Sebastian receive more than one questioning look from the people passing by. Okay, maybe Trent had a good game after all, that bastard.

* * *

(20:11)

 **You:** So I was thinking, could we meet one day?

(20:14)

 **Stalker:** Why the sudden interest?

(20:15)

 **You:** You gotta be joking – I ran around an auditorium in hopes of seeing you, so if you say that my interest is ‘sudden’ again, I will spam you with pictures of trees.

(20:16)

 **Stalker:** /Trees/, of ALL THINGS to spam with

 **You:** I will take them myself and make sure that they don’t even look cool.

(20:17)

 **Stalker:** I feel oh so threatened XD

(20:20)

 **You:** Soooooo

 **You:** What do you say?

(20:32)

 **You:** You’re avoiding me, aren’t you?

(20:34)

 **You:** TREE

 **You:** SPAM

(20:35)

 **You:** I will do it, you know

(20:36)

 **You:** Even if you didn’t say ‘sudden interest’ again

 **You:** So I’m sort of going against the contract here

 **You:** Breaking the law

 **You:** Breaking the law, breaking the law~~~~!

 **You:** I’m so badarse

(20:41)

 **You:** No but like seriously, tomorrow after school I’m gonna go to the Lima Bean (trust you to know where it is; otherwise, there’s this amazing thing called ‘Google Maps’) and if you’ll meet me there, I will be very happy.

(20:46)

 **You:** Or completely terrified of you turning out to be my grandma

 **You:** Please don’t be my grandma

 **Stalker:** For fuck’s sake, Sebastian, SHUT UP

The message caught him completely off guard; Sebastian wasn’t used to Stalker just snapping at him when he himself hadn’t knowingly provoked it.

(20:49)

 **You:** Jesus Christ, what got your panties in a twist?

(20:51)

 **Stalker:** Shut it, Bas, I just had a fight with my boyfriend, so /please/ be quiet

 **Stalker:** And sorry

Sebastian couldn’t help staring down at his telephone screen. His stalker had a _boyfriend_?!

Of course it was only natural for Stalker to have a life of his own; it would truly be creepy if the only thing this guy lived for was texting _him_. Sebastian should have figured that there would always be a possibility that his texting buddy wasn’t single, that he had friends and boyfriends who knew him by name and face.

But why did it make Sebastian feel heartbroken?

Going with his first impulse again –– because he didn’t want to lose this boy (what’s there to _lose?!_ He was never his to begin with! But fuck logic), Sebastian wrote the first thing that came to mind.

(20:55)

 **You:** Do you want to talk about it?

(20:56)

 **You:** Because I mean you listen to my problems and shit, so the least I could do is to listen to you for once, right?

The wait was excruciating. Sebastian threw himself on his bed, trying to do anything else for a while –– which included turning the TV on and mindlessly zapping through the channels before picking up one of the many abandoned books on his bedside table and trying to read while only half watching the evening news which he frankly didn’t give a shit about.

But then –– _then!_ Then his phone buzzed with a new message, and Sebastian all but threw the book in his hands away before opening the text in a hurry.

(21:11)

 **Stalker:** Well, I had a fight with my boyfriend – with whom I’ve been together for over a year btw – and it was partly about you. I /really/ don’t want you to feel bad about it; he just happened to notice your spam just now because I left my phone in the bedroom while I went downstairs, and he just looked at it and then accused me of cheating on him with you. And I’m so URGH! MAD at him!

(21:12)

 **You:** Okay, first, what we’re doing isn’t and never has been something that can be classified as cheating. And I think you are aware that I am a guy whom gay guys cheat with, so I do think I am pretty clear on where to draw the line.

(21:16)

 **Stalker:** I /know/, and the worst part is that he’s so stupid about it because HE texted another guy who we both knew was trying to get into his pants for months, and they even chatted and called each other and stuff – and then he said that it was nothing like this.

(21:17)

 **You:** Not to be like that, but that’s bullshit

(21:18)

 **You:** But he has a point though, because I am so not trying to get into your pants

 **You:** Much.

(21:19)

 **Stalker:** Don’t make me laugh, I’m mad!

 **You:** XD

 **Stalker:** Thanks for listening to me though

(21:23)

 **You:** You call this listening? Dude, you have a boyfriend you never told me about that you just so happened to fight with just now. This calls for you to tell me every shitty thing he has ever done, big or small, and for me to blindly agree with you, so we can rage together. Hit me, baby.

He was a little afraid that he was pushing it, asking for too much, but then his stalker answered, slowly going through each and every thing that seemed to bother him about his partner. Apparently, the guy had been ignoring him for quite some time, as Sebastian was told along with other things, and Stalker also seemed to be very angry for _Sebastian’s_ sake for being accused for helping to cheat.

(21:46)

 **You:** About that, it’s fine you know. Hell, it has even been true at times, so I’m really not bothered by it.

(21:52)

 **Stalker:** But I am. Because even if you /have/ helped guys cheat, I guess they were going to do so with or without your help, and I don’t want our relationship to be reduced to such a degrading label. We deserve better.

Sebastian felt almost giddy when he read the text; sure, he did know that this relationship was unlike any other he had ever had with _anyone,_ and he did value it greatly. But to hear (read) that his stalker did the same filled him with joy because it meant that he wasn’t alone in this –– all these conversations meant something for his slater as well.

(21:54)

 **You:** Well, when you put it like that~

* * *

Despite everything, Sebastian still went to the Lima Bean after school. He had no expectations that Stalker was going to show up, but there was still that tiny spark of hope that he would. They hadn’t actually talked about it again; Sebastian didn’t think it was appropriate to bring up ‘I’m still gonna wait for you tomorrow’ when Stalker was ranting about his surprisingly douchy boyfriend ( _why would he even be in a relationship with such person in the first place?_ Sebastian wondered). But at the same time, the words that the deal _wasn’t_ still on were never said either, and hence, here Sebastian was. Wo ho.

It was only when he had walked inside that Sebastian realised that it had been ages since he was at the Lima Bean. When he had finally dropped the idea of Blaine (he refused to say that he had given up! After all, when Sebastian wanted something, he would find a way to get it –– he had just concluded that Blaine wasn’t worth it in the end), he hadn’t found a good enough reason to drive all the way out there simply for coffee. Though, he had to admit to himself that when he tasted the fine brew of the brown, warm, liquid wonder in a cup, he had missed the coffee.

It turned out to have been a smart move, however, to bring not only his homework but also a book with him. Because he literally sat there for hours with nothing happening except him working ahead in his Calculus class. He had just finished his second cup of coffee and left the table to get a third when he spotted someone familiar at the end of the queue.

“Well-well,” Sebastian drawled, unable to resist it. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a better half or a fag-hag by your side, Hummel.”

Kurt instantly turned around, and for a second Sebastian could swear that the other boy looked disappointed or something, and then suddenly his bitchy walls were up again. “Weren’t you supposed to turn a page or something?”

“I’ve turned several for the last hour or so, but what can I say? There’s something about you that gets me.”

He earned a simple snort for that before Kurt turned around, ignoring him.

Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks with him after a long day and far too many math problems to solve, but when Sebastian looked at Kurt’s back, his hair, his body and skin and height, he couldn’t help thinking that Kurt was someone else. It was a ridiculous idea, though, because there was no way in living hell that _Kurt freaking Hummel_ would be the guy behind all those texts. Still, Sebastian had to say that when he recalled the description that he had been given and then thought of how Hummel looked, one could say that there were some similarities. Then again, there were a lot of brunets on the planet who were just slightly shorter than him, so Stalker’s description _was_ rather general. It would have been different if he had said that his hair was pink or that he liked to go dressed in kilts or something because that would cut a rather large demographic.

Still, Sebastian was so busy thinking that it was only after he had gotten his coffee, sat down at his table again and resumed to read the book that he had abandoned yesterday evening, only to be interrupted three lines in by Kurt Hummel himself, sitting down opposite him, that Sebastian realised just how deep in thought he had been.

“Isn’t this a strange turn of events,” he said and smirked though he would actually rather ask Kurt to go away because he didn’t want Stalker to get the wrong idea if he would happen to enter the coffee shop right there and then. But on other hand, Sebastian had been at this darn place for almost two hours now, and if Stalker had wanted to show up, he would have by now.

“It pains me to agree with you,” was Kurt’s reply. “But I actually have a reason to approach you.”

“Oh my, colour me surprised and inquisitive.”

Kurt simply rolled his eyes. “You know you haven’t actually apologised to me yet,” he snapped, and Sebastian just blinked at him because _that_ came out of nowhere.

“What?” he asked.

“You know a while back when you called us here. You said you were sorry to basically everyone but me, even though you pestered me the most,” Kurt said and yes, now that he was reminded, he recalled. “But nevermind that, I didn’t come here for an apology.”

Sebastian kept quiet, which indeed was unusual, but a lot of things were unusual with this conversation.

After taking a deep breath, Kurt looked him in the eye and said, “I just wanted to know, since you seem so willing to share similar information with me before, if the conversations you had with Blaine when you were still talking daily could all be classified as ‘family friendly’.”

For a moment, Sebastian didn’t know if he was supposed to answer with a snarky comment, the brutal truth or a simple lie. In the end, he decided that Kurt did deserve to be treated seriously.

“No, they weren’t,” he said, the plastered smirk fallen from his face. “At least from my side they mostly never were, but Blaine didn’t exactly stop me you could say.”

“I see.”

What was most surprising was probably how Kurt didn’t look surprised at all, but rather that he just wanted confirmation on something he had known all along. But then again, Kurt had always been aware of how Sebastian came onto people, so there wasn’t really anything to be surprised about. Still, most guys didn’t actually want to hear the awful truth even if they deep down knew it already. Kurt was better than that, however.

“I haven’t spoken to him since last time you saw me, though,” Sebastian added, like he was trying to make it better somehow.

“I know,” Kurt said and actually smiled a little, which was odd but not unwelcome. “Thanks for being honest with me.”

“I’m a lot of things, but a liar has never actually been one of them.”

“So it seems.” With that, Kurt stood up and cleared to wrinkles on his clothes before he started to turn away.

“Kurt,” Sebastian said without even realising it, but Kurt turned and looked at him, for once without any traces of dislike, and it made Sebastian continue. “I am sorry if I hurt you, though.”

“I forgive you.” Kurt smiled at him again, this time with a lot more warmth than before, and Sebastian felt his stomach drop and he got this _feeling_ that didn’t go away even after Kurt walked out of the coffee shop, and Sebastian ogled Kurt’s arse until it was out of sight.

Biting his lip, Sebastian hesitated for a second before pulling up his phone.

(19:23)

 **You:** You know I read somewhere that the human mind can’t make up faces, so whenever we try to imagine how someone looks like we recycle a face we’ve seen somewhere.

(19:26)

 **Stalker:** An interesting fact I have to say, but you’re telling me this because..?

One had to appreciate that Stalker somehow knew when Sebastian just randomly came up with a subject of conversation and when he was actually going to make a point.

(19:27)

 **You:** I think I know which face I imagine you have now

(19:30)

 **Stalker:** Oh my!

 **Stalker:** Who is it, so I can find him and continue my creepy stalker thing to make him stay away from you?

(19:31)

 **You:** No way I’m actually telling you! I mean what if I’m terribly wrong, huh??

 **You:** But I just talked to him, and that’s all the info you get

(19:34)

 **Stalker:** Might be all I need to~

 **You:** Creep

 **Stalker:** Thank you! I do try :D

* * *

(21:34)

 **Stalker:** I thought you ought to know, seeing that you care and will take this better than most people around me – I broke up with my boyfriend.

The text came later the same evening and for maybe ten minutes or so, Sebastian just stared at it. Selfishly, he felt like doing a celebration dance where he sat by his desk, having fun with photoshopping a tree (yes, the talk about trees had gotten him inspired).

(21:51)

 **You:** What is socially acceptable response to that? Because the first thing that popped into my head, I swear to God, was “Congratulations!”

(21:53)

 **Stalker:** Well, that /is/ the best reaction I’ve gotten so far!

(21:54)

 **You:** Really? Don’t you have any real-life-that-know-your-face friends to bring out the ice cream and chick flicks or whatever one does when you break up?

 **Stalker:** Oh no, my dearest ex told everyone we know that I cheated on him today, and what’s worse, they all believed it.

(21:56)

 **Stalker:** And then came shitstorm of angry texts and phone calls after I went to his house and broke up with him this evening.

 **Stalker:** Shitstom is, in fact, still in process, I’m just ignoring them all.

(21:57)

 **Stalker:** And oh my brother popped his head inside my room half an hour ago and wanted to know if I really had cheated too!

 **Stalker:** Isn’t life WONDERFUL

(21:59)

 **You:** What kind of fucking friends do you have?!

(22:02)

 **Stalker:** The very impulsive and easily influenced kind – who are borderline crazy when put in a group together btw

(22:03)

 **You:** JFC I feel like I just wanna give you a hug or something because even the Warblers are somewhat sane

(22:05)

 **Stalker:** Careful, I might break into your house and watch you sleep until you wake up solely because I am watching you, and then I will demand that you cuddle me or else

(22:08)

 **You:** OR, you could just, like, you know, CALL ME and I’d open the front door and let you in you know

(22:10)

 **Stalker:** That’s not creepy. Or a challenge. Or fun.

 **You:** I’m sorry for being practical, forgive me

 **Stalker:** I’m still mad that people just listened to his stupid song and took me for a cheater

 **You:** He… sang a fucking song about it?!

(22:15)

 **Stalker:** Oh yes indeed and then when I asked him what the hell he was thinking he said that he “sang a song about his feelings” like that would make me understand. How about no. You are simply incapable of informing someone how you feel about something by singing Whitney Houston. Nu uh.

(22:18)

 **You:** What kind of people do you fucking know? Is everyone around you crazy?!

 **Stalker:** Well, yes of course

(22:21)

 **You:** Speaking of crazy people – should I expect someone to come knocking on my door and then punch me in the face as soon as I open it because they think you cheated with me (I am asking because experience have proved that people actually do that sometimes)

(22:22)

 **Stalker:** Bahaha! But no, I have a nickname for you on my phone because I’m paranoid, and it was probably a good thing indeed.

 **You:** Well that is reassuring

(22:23)

 **You:** What’s my nickname???

(22:24)

 **Stalker:** Won’t tell you :D

 **You:** WHY??? D’8

(22:27)

 **Stalker:** Because I just broke up with my boyfriend, and it makes me happy to put other people in misery by such simple measures

(22:28)

 **You:** You really will make a great dom one day when you fuck someone into submission

 **Stalker:** I’M SORRY WHAT?!

 **You:** X’D

 **You:** Call it my way of getting back to you or whatever

(22:30)

 **You:** (I still think it’s true though)

 **Stalker:** Omfg

(22:32)

 **Stalker:** So this is how you talk to people who you’re trying to sleep with, huh?

(22:35)

 **You:** Nope! :D Then it’s just like random dirty talk – though I have to say I got a great game when it comes to words – and usually the guys are either very flattered and let me continue until they want more that just words – wanna put it into practise. Or they just wanna have sex to begin with. Just a simple observation ^^

(22:36)

 **Stalker:** I feel so special…

(22:37)

 **You:** Well you are, on every level

 **Stalker:** That was surprisingly sweet. Thank you x

Okay, and now Sebastian was officially losing it.

* * *

Maybe Sebastian should feel a little bit more sorry for Stalker’s failed relationship (that he hadn’t known of until it was over, by the way!) and a little less happy with his position as reliable friend and charming flirt (because yes, their texts _were_ rather flirty nowadays, at least from Sebastian’s side). There was still the fear that Stalker was a middle age old man with a bald head and performance issues, or of course that he was ugly as fuck, but Sebastian did try to chase those unwelcome thoughts out of his mind. It shouldn’t matter. _Right_.

Most of all, however, the want to meet his text-buddy face to face grew stronger and stronger. They still hadn’t talked about seeing each other since Stalker’s break up, much because of said break up from Sebastian’s part. He thought that Stalker was probably going through a rough time, so Sebastian shouldn’t pressure him into something that would obviously be nerve-wracking for both of them. When it got closer to Halloween, however, Sebastian couldn’t help but to push it.

(22:11)

 **You:** I’ve been thinking

(22:12)

 **Stalker:** Must have been hard for you

 **You:** Fuck you too

(22:14)

 **Stalker:** I’m not going to sext you, Sebastian, no matter how much you beg me to :D

(22:17)

 **You:** But how did you get my phone number though?? Because I know for a fact that I only give it to people I wanna sleep with and now also Warblers because it’s rather practical (shut your smiley face)

 **You:** And I know you’re not a Warbler, and you said you weren’t one of my hook ups

(22:18)

 **You:** And my number is actually also protected because of my dad’s job and shit

(22:20)

 **Stalker:** I used my stalkerish skills to obtain it

 **Stalker:** :DDDD

 **You:** I’m sure you did, but how

(22:23)

 **Stalker:** I don’t want to tell you~

 **You:** You’re such a douche. You know what I look like and my name and everything, and I know that you like to text under your blanket

(22:26)

 **Stalker:** To be fair, that was a very personal thing that I shared with you

 **Stalker:** And you said you thought you imagined me to look like some guy you knew

(22:29)

 **You:** Yes, well, while dear Kurt Hummel does fit your description of yourself, I suspect it’s mostly because of his great arse that I ended up picturing you as him and no one else

(22:31)

 **Stalker:** Isn’t he the boyfriend of that guy you went after?

 **You:** Keeping up your stalker game I see

 **You:** (yes)

(22:32)

 **Stalker:** Of course, it’s my legacy! But isn’t it a little weird that you pick your, idk, former rival?

(22:33)

 **You:** Maybe, but in my defence I have always found him to be hot, and it was only the fact that the boyfriend was a far easier target that I went after him and not Kurt who would probably never let me charm my way into his pants anyways.

 **Stalker:** Well at least it’s assuring to know that you imagine I look like someone with those characteristics XP

* * *

“Did you hear?” Jeff asked Trent as the few himself on the couch next to Sebastian, narrowly avoiding all the books that were spread out. “Kurt and Blaine broke up!”

Sebastian turned his head so fast he was surprised he didn’t snatch his neck, but Trent just went, “Yes, I know, Kurt told me about it.”

“When did this happen?!” Sebastian demanded.

“Some weeks ago, I just saw it on facebook,” Jeff answered. “But Kurt told you?” he asked Trent.

“Well, I asked how things were going with Blaine because Kurt and I have kept in touch with each other by texting and stuff, and he told me that it was over,” Trent said. “I knew they weren’t going as well as everyone thought, but still, I was really surprised when he told me.”

A dreadful thought came to mind, and Sebastian felt potentially dizzy for a second. But _no_ , he shouldn’t jump to such conclusions –– that break up and Stalker’s can be totally coincidental. After all, Kurt did ask about Sebastian’s and Blaine’s conversation history the last time he saw him.

“I didn’t know you were so close to Kurt,” he said.

“I wasn’t actually until he came up to me last time we were at McKinley, and we exchanged numbers,” Trent said, and Jeff made a noise of agreement.

“Really?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes. We weren’t really close when he was at Dalton, though he was mostly with Blaine then, but I’m really glad I got to know him better,” Trent said. “You know,” he then added, looking fondly at Sebastian.“It was actually Kurt who suggested that I should try to become friends with you.”

Oh God. “Really?” he asked again, hoping that his voice didn’t waver.

“Yes really,” Trent laughed. “I thought he was crazy at first, but Kurt can be very convincing when he wants to.”

Jeff was saying something, but Sebastian couldn’t make out a word of it, couldn’t bother; the dreadful feeling was back in full force again, and he was mildly panicking.

“Trent,” he said, interrupting the two other boys mid-conversation, though neither seemed to find it unusual. “Can I borrow your phone for a sec?”

“Sure,” was the immediate reply, and Trent handed it to him without asking why he needed it.

With trembling fingers (he was fucking trembling! _Why the fuck was he trembling!?_ ), Sebastian pulled up Trent’s contact list and scrolled down until he came to the contact named ‘Kurt Hummel’. He clicked on the contact to pull up its info but didn’t look at it yet. Instead, he pulled up his own phone and quickly navigated to ‘Stalker’ and clicked for more info. Then he compared the numbers.

They matched.

It couldn’t be. But it fucking was. It was Kurt all along, _Kurt Hummel_ whom he had talked to, whom he had _shared_ shit with that no one knew about.

How could he have been so fucking stupid?!

Quickly, Sebastian closed Trent’s phone and handed it back to him with a quick, “Thanks.” Then he walked out the room even though both Trent and Jeff were calling after him. His mind was racing with thoughts, like how he had talked about Kurt to fucking _Kurt himself_ , the fact that it had been Kurt who made sure that Trent gave him a fucking chance, _Kurt_ who had fucking picked up the phone and listened to Sebastian’s drunken moaning. FUCK.

He quickly found another empty common room, and after closing the door behind him he pressed the call button. Maybe this wasn’t the way to go, but fuck that, any reason and consideration were out of the window right now.

After about five rings, Hummel picked up, and Sebastian immediately shouted, “Hi Kurt!”

He heard an audible gasp on the other side, followed by a moment of silence before, “… Sebastian, look,” Kurt Hummel’s voice said, all high-pitched and nervous, and it was fucking real. It was really Kurt.

“What?!” he snapped, not letting Kurt finish –– why should he?! “When were you gonna fucking tell me about this, huh?!”

“I didn’t ––”

“Or where you just gonna continue with this sick game of yours?!”

“It was never a game!”

“Then what fucking was it?!” Sebastian screamed into the phone, trying, _failing_ , to hold back tears. “You just, what? Decided to take my number from Blaine and get to know me and do what exactly?”

“I never meant for it to be like this, I never thought it would go this far!” Kurt said in a voice that sounded borderline hysterical. “I was gonna drop it, but then I couldn’t and I _was_ gonna tell you but ––” his voice broke.

“But _what_ , Kurt?! I slushied your boyfriend and then confessed to you about it –– because around there it would have been a good time to fucking say that it was you when I called you in the middle of the fucking night!”

“You think I didn’t want to tell you?!” Kurt shouted back. “Don’t you think that every time I saw you I just wanted to ask you to stop being such an arse because _I knew_ that you were more than that –– don’t you think that it _hurt_ when you insulted me to my face and tried to really ruin my life because I was in your way?!”

“Then why didn’t you?” Sebastian said, his voice stained from shouting, and he just knew that the fact that he was crying could be heard in his voice. “Why the _hell_ didn’t you tell me –– because any time would have been a fucking good time to do so? And why did you act like some fucking puppet master with the strings to everyone around me –– didn’t you think that I’d find out?!”

He heard heavy breathing on the other side of the phone, like Kurt was fighting tears as well, and he didn’t want it to affect him, didn’t want to care –– but he did. “Because I –– I didn’t say anything because I was scared that you’d react like this,” Kurt finally confessed with a trembling voice, but it was just something in what he said that made Sebastian see red.

“You know what? Fuck you, Kurt,” he spat out. “Fuck you and fuck your fucking ways to protect a relationship which was bound to crash and burn anyways; fuck you for tricking me and just _fuck you!_ ” And then he hung up.

Furious, he threw his phone down on a nearby couch only to have it bounce off and fall to the floor with a sound that momentarily made Sebastian’s blood freeze in his veins. Surely he had broken the screen, but he felt too fucked up and over to even check if he had. Instead, he just planted his face on the couch. He didn’t want to think, didn’t want to feel –– but his mind and body had other ideas. It was too much to even grasp, and within seconds he was fucking sobbing into a pillow on the couch like it was his only friend.

It had been Kurt.

 _Of course it had been Kurt!_ he said to himself. It made fucking sense for it to be Kurt, and every freaking conversation and all that had been said freaking shouted _‘Kurt Hummel wrote this!’_ when he stopped to think about it.

Kurt. Kurt who had a fantastic arse and who was so witty it hurt, who had listened when Sebastian had needed someone to, who was so easy to talk to, and who had to see Sebastian sneering and plotting things against him but even then never used any of Sebastian’s problems and secrets against him. Kurt whom he had pretty much fallen in love with and whom he was quite sure he had ruined any chance to get together with.

Hours later, when Sebastian was back home and curled up in his bed, too sad to do anything but stare at the wall, he did receive a text. His heart skipped a beat when his phone buzzed, and then two more when he saw that it wasn’t Trent or any Warbler asking where he disappeared to.

(23:47)

 **Stalker:** I’m sorry. I started this because yes, I did think that it would help me to keep you away from Blaine, but like you said we didn’t have a good relationship with or without you in the picture. But I didn’t want to see that back then. I didn’t mean for you to feel like I manipulated you or anyone around you – when I asked Trent to give you a chance it was because I didn’t want you to be without friends, and I thought I might just give him a little push. Perhaps I overstepped my boundaries, but I thought I was doing you a favour even though I never meant for you to know about it. I’m sorry if you feel tricked or lied to, and I’m sorry if I hurt you, but I promise I won’t do it again. Bye.

Without any delay, Sebastian’s phone collided with the wall before Sebastian could even blink.

* * *

Later, his mother knocked on his door before waiting five seconds and then opening it, gently asking if he was coming down for dinner. Sebastian, who was still lying with his back to the door, still in his uniform, didn’t move a muscle, hoping that she’d take it as a sign that he was asleep or something. When she left, he didn’t expect the disappointment that followed.

* * *

The next day was a Saturday, thankfully, and Sebastian finally changed out of his uniform which was so rumpled that he felt sorry for the dry cleaner worker who was gonna have to fix it. Then he dragged himself down to get some breakfast, so hungry that he actually felt nauseous since he hadn’t eaten anything for dinner the day before. Both his parents were downstairs in the living room as he passed by, and he could feel their questioning gazes on him though he didn’t acknowledge them. He just wanted to get some food, eat, then die. Sounded like a plan to him.

It was impossible to not think about Kurt no matter how hard he tried –– though to be perfectly honest, Sebastian didn’t try all that much. Their texting had become one of the most essential things in Sebastian’s life, and now it was just gone. He had spent the whole night staring at a fucking wall until he fell asleep, and he only woke up because he was so hungry he thought he was going to starve. Even though the sweatpants and t-shirt he had thrown on were both clean, Sebastian felt disgusting and groggy right down to the bone.

Once breakfast was obtained, Sebastian locked himself away in his room, mindlessly zapping through the channels on the TV thought nothing caught his interest. He didn’t really expect anything to. When lunch came around, his parents first called his name per usual, but after fifteen minutes or so his mother appeared in his doorway with a plate in her hand.

“Thought you might want it brought up to you, since you don’t seem too keen on coming downstairs,” she said softly and walked into his room.

Sebastian just looked at her for a second, surprised more than anything. But then he found his composure enough to give her a “thank you” and accept the plate.

Her eyes looked over his nightstand for a moment, inspecting his breakfast plate like she was worried that he wasn’t eating properly. He probably wasn’t, since nutella sandwiches weren’t really all that nourishing, but well, it was his go-to food and he hadn’t really thought too much about it when he stood in the kitchen, making himself six sandwiches like any miserable, hungry teenager would.

For a moment, his mother lingered where she stood, looking at him again, before she finally came to some sort of decision and gracefully sat down on the bed. If today hadn’t been off already, it most certainly was now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly, and Sebastian was really tempted to ask what she was referring to. But he wasn’t in the mood to be snappy and cross with her –– and that really said something in itself.

“No,” he said simply, turning away from her.

She sighed, and it sounded to Sebastian like she was giving up already, which frankly made him angry, yet she didn’t go away. “You know,” she said instead. “Your father and I forget that you’re still a boy sometimes.” Oh well that was not really what he had been expecting to hear, Sebastian thought and gave her a baffled look. “You always seem to know what you’re doing,” she continued. “And you never really ask for help with anything, even though I know you’ve landed yourself in some big trouble over the years –– you always solve it on your own. I keep waiting for the day you’ll walk into the living room and say that you messed up –– failed a test or got in a fight or did something you shouldn’t. But you never do.”

“You want me to fail at things?” Sebastian asked doubtfully.

“No, no, darling, it’s just, well, we’re surprised that you haven’t,” she said. “And now you came home this weekend looking like your world had fallen apart but still didn’t ask for anything, and I came to realise that you probably never will.” She stopped as to check that she was right, and Sebastian reckoned that she actually was. “That’s mine and your father’s fault really, for not making it clear that it doesn’t matter if you screw up because we will still be there for you. I understand if you don’t want to talk about whatever is happening to you right now –– but if you choose to later, we both promise to listen and help you the best we can.”

“Thanks…” he said, not knowing what else to reply.

She gave him a kind look and patted his shoulder gently, as if to ask whether he really didn’t want to come down to lunch even though they both knew that he’d say no. Then she was gone.

Terrible as it was, Sebastian’s first thought was that he needed to tell Stalker about what just happened. But then he remembered that his phone was still lying on the floor after Sebastian threw it, and thank God for that; otherwise, he might have gone as far as to type a message before he remembered.

He felt like throwing his phone into the wall again. And again for good measure.

* * *

 

When Sunday came around, Sebastian expected it to be the same as the day before –– thought it turned out that he was sorely mistaken. At 10 a.m. sharp, his father knocked on his door and said that he had a classmate waiting for him downstairs, much to Sebastian’s surprise. Though, when he saw Trent standing in the hallway with a concerned look on his face, Sebastian realised that he should perhaps have seen it coming.

“And what can I do for you this fine Sunday?” Sebastian drawled teasingly as a greeting. Trent didn’t seem to find it funny, however.

“I came over because I was worried. You just disappeared this Friday leaving your textbooks behind and everything and not answering your phone at all. I mean I thought the thing was glued to your hand but apparently not,” Trent said, and even though Sebastian didn’t want to, he could feel his teasing smirk slipping away. “And I also wanted to give you all the stuff you left, so you have it by Monday.” Trent waved the little canvas bag in his hand which was undoubtedly full of Sebastian’s text books and notepads, just to emphasise all the things Sebastian had left behind at school.

“Better come in then,” Sebastian said, jerking his head towards the stairs and then led Trent to his room. Sullenly, Sebastian realised that not only was this the first time Trent was at his house, but also the first time that he actually had ever had a boy over whom he didn’t have any plans whatsoever to have a horizontal encounter with. He threw a glance at Trent as they entered his admittedly untidy room just to confirm that yes, no such plans whatsoever.

“Where do you want your stuff?” Trent asked.

“Preferably somewhere I can find them later,” was Sebastian’s brilliant answer as he threw himself on his bed, waiting for Trent to start asking questions like Sebastian knew he would.

Sure enough, after Trent bad neatly pulled up everything from his little bad and placed it on Sebastian’s mess of a desk, he came up to the large bed, pulled up the covers until he was satisfied, and then sat down next to where Sebastian was lying.

“So,” he started. “Are you going to tell me what happened to your phone?”

Sebastian made a noise and gestured to where it lay on the floor, not thinking that Trent would get up again and go fetch it. But Trent did so anyway.

“You’ve cracked the screen,” he said as a matter of fact as he handed it over to Sebastian. “What did you do, throw it into a wall?”

“That wall to be exact,” Sebastian said.

“Sebastian! Why would you do that? I’ve been worried sick about you the whole weekend because you didn’t answer your phone –– and you just decided to throw it? Why?!”

Only the screen was broken Sebastian noted, a branched crack going from the top left corner down over to the screen to just below the middle where the last fissure stopped. But he could still see that he had over ten new texts that he hadn’t opened, seven of which from Trent alone and also some missed calls. The phone seemed to work fine, crack aside, and Sebastian didn’t know what to feel about that.

“I found out who my stalker was,” Sebastian said quietly like he was sharing a secret. It felt like he was.

“Not who you expected it to be?” Trent asked gently, settling down next to Sebastian again, closer this time.

He closed his eyes for a moment, debating whether he should tell Trent or not. But in the end, even though it was Kurt who pushed Trent toward him, what they had now was a friendship that stood on its own, without Kurt pulling the strings in the background. And Sebastian needed to talk to someone who’d understand, someone who was not his Stalker, and Trent was just enough for Sebastian.

“It’s Kurt Hummel,” Sebastian said flatly.

“Wait –– seriously?!” Trent exclaimed, and any other day Sebastian would have laughed at his expression.

“I compared his phone number on your phone with the one I had,” he explained, looking at the phone in his hand though Trent was staring at him. “Then I got into an empty common room and called him.”

“Just like that? What happened?”

“Might have said some things, but mostly told him to fuck off.”

“Sebastian…” Trent’s voice was soft and caring, and Sebastian hated how it just made him feel like sinking into the pillows and waiting to die. He didn’t know he was crying again until he felt Trent’s arm settle around his shoulders, pulling him into a comfortable embrace with his head buried in a pillow. And here he thought he was done with this.

Sebastian sobbed, and Trent let him, saying nothing and just _being_ there. How was Sebastian to know that it was exactly what he needed?

“He ––” Sebastian took a deep breath, trying again. “He sent me a text later that evening, basically saying bye and that’s –– that’s when I threw the phone,” he admitted.

“Oh,” was all the reply he got. And then, “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know! I just –– it felt like he just dropped it, _dropped us_ , and I wanted to hit something and then I just smashed it. I thought it would break more than it did.”

“Perhaps you should try to contact him again once you’ve calmed down enough,” Trent suggested gently.

“Yeah right. Not in a million years, fuck no.”

“Why?”

“Because, because –– because he could have told me who he was before it got so fucking deep!” Sebastian exclaimed frustrated, trying to grasp all the arguments that made this whole thing so clear in his mind, yet fucking hard to put in words.

“Maybe, yeah,” Trent admitted. “But should it really matter all that much? I mean everything he ever said was still him talking, right?”

“How would I know that? He could have lied for all I care.”

“I think you, more than anyone I know, would notice if someone was feeding you a lie. You’re so outrageously good at reading people it’s scary sometimes, but mostly offending.”

Sebastian chuckled despite himself and tried to hide the small smile away in the pillow. He didn’t want to smile, not now, not ever. Fucking Trent.

“I screwed up, didn’t I?” he asked after a moment into the pillow, not daring to look at Trent.

“Not so much as you think, I believe,” Trent answered good-heartedly. “Just give it some time and decide what you want to do next, and if it’s meant to be it’ll be I think.”

“You think? Well, that’s very reassuring.”

“Shut up.” Trent punched him gently on the back. “You really know how to ruin a moment.”

“A moment?” Sebastian deadpanned, finally looking up at Trent with a critical gaze. “If that was a moment, then I don’t even want to know how many ‘moments’ you consider that we have.”

“Well, it can’t be too many because you always ruin them,” Trent shot back, fast as lighting.

“You’re such a wuss,” Sebastian said, and Trent let it be at that. Sebastian reckoned that he was being nice.

* * *

The next week was painful. ‘You only realise what you had when it’s gone’ started to make a hella lot of sense, and it was hard to admit even to himself how much of his time he used to spend _thinking_ of Stalker, let alone talking to him. It hurt for more than one reason. Even now, all the things Sebastian and Kurt had said, the way things turned out, the fucking fact that it was _Kurt_ , the last fucking text he sent –– these thoughts kept running around in his mind 24/7.

Two things were clear, however:

1\. Sebastian couldn’t stop thinking about him.

2\. He screwed up royally.

And once those two things were established, Sebastian _really_ started to freak. Trent had been right –– hell _Sebastian_ had been right –– when he said that it shouldn’t matter who Stalker was. Only they weren’t right at all because it mattered so fucking much that Sebastian didn’t even know where to start to explain it to himself even. But somehow, the thought of Kurt wasn’t as terrible as he had ever expected it to be. He had been so freaking casual about it before, mostly because the thought of Kurt was to him just that: a thought. But now it had become a reality, a possibility even (or well, it _had been_ until Sebastian screwed the fuck up).

It was terrifying because it was so unlike anything Sebastian had ever gotten first-hand experience with, but as time went on, he realised that the only thing worse than talking to Kurt was _not_ talking to Kurt. And who could fight with that logic?

Time, apparently. Or to be more specific: timing.

When Sebastian _finally_ decided that he needed to talk to Kurt, Trent told him, “Oh that’s great –– he’s out of the state because of Nationals though, just so you know.” He added that Sebastian could still text him or call him, but Sebastian found himself saying that there was no way in hell that he was going to do that and possibly make Kurt lose his focus.

Trent had responded that maybe it didn’t have to be so bad, and if they managed to make up then Kurt would perhaps have even more reason to win Nationals, but seeing how their last phone call went Sebastian didn’t want to risk it. He was also frightened to death that Kurt wouldn’t respond if he texted, so no. Just no.

On the day of Nationals, Sebastian managed to find a site that streamed it live –– though the quality was crap. It didn’t matter too much to him, however, and he sat there in front of his computer on his bed, idly watching until New Directions finally came on. Their performance has him completely captivated. If he smiled when they won, it’s no one’s business but his own, and even though he might have typed a congratulant text, then at least he didn’t send it.

What came after was slightly worse, however. Since Sebastian didn’t actually _know_ when Kurt would be back in Ohio since the competition was set so that it leaped into the weekend, he had no idea if Kurt and Co. would stay a day extra or so. In fact, he possibly drove Trent insane with his worrying.

“Just go to McKinley on Monday then, when you _know_ he’ll be there!” Trent had finally snapped at him after saying the same thing countless of times in reassuring tones over the very same weekend. And scary as it was, that was exactly what Sebastian planned to do.

* * *

As soon as school was out, Sebastian all but ran to his car and then drove away to Lima. The drive still took about two hours, a time span Sebastian hardly noticed in his wildly running thoughts. What if Kurt wouldn’t be there when he arrived? What if he wouldn’t talk to him? What if…?

When he finally arrived, the halls of McKinley were deserted, which made Sebastian’s guts turn sideways. There was a ripped banner hanging just inside the main entrance of the school congratulating its glee club, as well as confetti lying around on the floors that a poor, lonely janitor was now trying to sweep up. It was not hard to imagine how stupidly surprised the ND must have looked when they were ambushed by their new adoring fans.

Despite the emptiness of the school grounds, Sebastian still walked aimlessly around in what he _thought_ was the direction of the auditorium. It turned out to be harder to find that he would have though.

“What are you doing here?” an accusative voice suddenly broke the general silence, and Sebastian turned around to find one Santana Lopez glaring at him.

For a moment, he just looked at her and the pom-poms in her hand, wondering if he should make a comment about them. But in the end he decided not to, because no matter how much he generally liked Santana and her badassery, he doubted that she would actually help him –– especially if he started off by insulting her.

So instead he sighed, dragged his hand across his face before looking into her watchful eyes. “Look, I get if you don’t want to help me, but could you tell me where I could find Kurt?” He wondered if he should have said ‘Hummel’ instead of ‘Kurt,’ but Santana didn’t let him get too lost in thought since she answered immediately.

“What do you want with him?”

“I just need to talk to him.”

Her expression didn’t give away what she was thinking for even a second and while that wouldn’t do much to Sebastian on a normal day, this silent judgement _clearly_ wasn’t within his comfort zone.

“Nevermind,” he heard himself saying, breaking eye contact. He hesitated for a second, maybe to see if she’d do anything, but then just turned and started to walk away.

“He’s at the Lima Bean!” Santana called after him, and he spun around and looked at her with wide eyes.

“What..?” he couldn’t help but to trail off, not sure he heard right.

“The Lima Bean,” she repeated, ‘ _idiot_ ’ not being said but heavily implied. “A couple of guys went there to celebrate a little extra; I couldn’t since I have cheerio practise.” She waved her pomp’s just to emphasise.

For a moment he was glued on spot, still not quite believing that she actually helped him. Then came, “Oh, thank you. And congratulations on winning the Nationals by the way.”

“Thanks,” she deadpanned, and he turned away only to have her shouting, “Hey!” after him. “Exit’s that way,” she said, pointing to the corridor behind her. Then she went the other way, giving him a smirk like she found him funny as they passed. Sebastian didn’t notice all that much, though, because he was ten minutes away from being face to face with Kurt Hummel.

When he arrived at the Lima Bean, Sebastian didn’t have a hard time spotting Kurt in the crowd; in fact, he did it faster than it should have been humanly possible. But right there and then he didn’t give his Kurt-spotting skills much consideration because frankly, his heart was in his throat, his stomach was practically roaring with nervousness, and he was trying very hard to fight the instinct to flee.

Kurt was sitting by a pulled together-in-a-way-that-would-make-the-staff-groan-at-these-reckless-teenager-in-fact-they’re-already-glaring table with several other New Direction members, including his ‘I Belong on Broadway’ Bestie, ‘Do Not Wear High Heels’ Brother and ‘My Manners are Trapped Under this Insane Amount of Gel on my Head’ Ex-Boyfriend. For a moment, Sebastian hesitated at the entrance because he didn’t want everyone around Kurt to know that he was there, but at the same time running away now was not even an option. He thought about texting Kurt, thinking that it might draw the least attention when suddenly Kurt looked up at him. He stilled in his seat, staring at Sebastian with wide eyes, his whole posture tensing up in the matter of seconds. Sebastian probably looked the same way from where he was standing; in fact, he felt like Kurt looked: momentarily paralysed. But then he managed to swallow and gesture to Kurt that he wanted to talk to him outside –– by pointing at the door and jerking his head in the same direction.

Kurt seemed to get what he was trying to say, though –– or at least Sebastian hoped he did when he looked down at his coffee cup for a moment before leaning over to Barbara next to him, whispering something that only made her nod, barely even giving him a glance and then he rose, from his seat. When Sebastian was certain that Kurt was neither going to the toilette or standing in line for a refill, Sebastian quickly exited the building, hoping that Kurt would follow.

He did. He walked up to where Sebastian was standing in the open parking space right next to his car –– or he _marched_ up really, and Sebastian suddenly realised that he hadn’t actually thought of what he was going to freaking say! Christ did he suck at this...

“What do you want, Sebastian?” Kurt asked, his words sharp enough to stab someone –– Sebastian specifically perhaps –– but he willed himself to look up at Kurt’s face and not at the ground.

“I might have overreacted a little,” was the first thing that came to mind, and Sebastian was about to mentally pat himself on the back for a good start when Kurt’s gaze became the glare of the century.

“‘Might have overreacted’,” Kurt repeated slowly, articulating every single letter. “That’s what you’re going with? That you _might_ have overreacted when you were shouting ‘fuck you’ to me like ten times in the same sentence?!”

“Yeah well _excuse me_ for my phrasing then!” Sebastian shot back.

“Oh no,” Kurt said, pointing at him like he was some especially stupid jock who needed to be schooled. “You do _not_ tell me to fuck off and then not talk to me for _two weeks_ only to show up when I’m finally thinking about something else only to shout at me again!”

“So you mean that you _wanted_ me to contact you –– even after you basically said ‘never mind, Sebastian, I just did this because I felt like it, bye’,” he mimicked Kurt’s high-pitch voice.

Kurt looked ready to hit him, and frankly, Sebastian wouldn’t mind if he did.

“Fuck you right back, Sebastian!” Kurt shouted, getting up in Sebastian’s face. “Don’t you _dare_ to belittle everything we’ve been through to this –– you don’t know a thing!”

“Well then _explain it to me_ because over here, in my world, it fucking is! You don’t just talk with people like that and then just drop it!”

“But you dropped it too!”

“Of course I did! You said ‘bye’ like it was fucking nothing, just to wipe your own conscience clean before walking away!”

“And you called me only to shout without even letting me explain!”

“What is there to explain, Kurt?!” Sebastian demanded. “You what? –– Wanted to keep me away from your arse of a boyfriend and then found that oh –– this other guy is nice to talk to, so let’s hold onto him for a couple of months, yeah?”

The slap that followed echoed throughout the empty parking lot, and Sebastian couldn’t even move his head after it had so soundly been turned for him –– trying to make his thoughts catch up with reality. Kurt had _slapped_ him.

When he did snap out of it, he first noted how his face fucking _burned_ , and then how shocked Kurt looked, like he couldn’t believe what he had just done. Sebastian wouldn’t have believed it either if his face hadn’t begged to differ.

“I –– I ––” Kurt stuttered, his eyes looking everywhere but at Sebastian, and in that moment Sebastian just went with his god-awful impulse again and pulled Kurt close by the neck and kissed him.

Kurt barely had the time to gasp against his lips before he pulled away, feeling stunned by himself. _He had fucking kissed Kurt!_ Kurt whose face was so fucking close and who had multi-coloured eyes and the softest of lips and who was staring wide eyed back at Sebastian –– before grabbing his tie and pulling him into a kiss.

This time it was Sebastian’s turn to gasp because Kurt was _kissing him!_ Without thinking, his other hand came up, cupping Kurt’s chin and tilting his head for a better angle and also making one of them moan. His lips slid gently over Kurt’s, the whole act of surprisingly soft for two people who were shouting moments ago. Kurt’s breath tasted of coffee, and he whimpered as Sebastian gently sucked on his bottom lip for a moment before dragging his tongue across it as well. Now it was definitely Sebastian who moaned.

He hadn’t realised that his eyes had fallen shut until Kurt pulled away, and they flew open.

“What are we going?” Kurt asked, his voice oh so soft, and his breath washed over Sebastian’s face as he made sure to keep Kurt close with his hands.

“Fuck if I know,” Sebastian answered, closing his eyes again when he was certain that Kurt wasn’t going anywhere, gently bringing their foreheads together and just feeling the other standing there so close to him. “Fighting you’d think.”

That earned a small chuckle from Kurt, which Sebastian felt as much as heard, and it was frankly amazing.

“Sorry I slapped you.”

“I think I deserved that one.”

“I think so too.” He chuckled, but then his expression turned somber as he looked straight in Sebastian’s eyes. “I’m sorry for… you know. I never meant to hurt you.”

Sebastian took a deep breath. “I think I’ve actually known that all along –– it, it doesn’t seem like you to deliberately hurt people. Me, on other hand?” Sebastian scoffed. “I’m sorry too, though. But one would think you at least knew what kind of arsehole you were dealing with…” he trailed off.

“Hmm… A stubborn, impulsive, sarcastic, tree-obsessed kind? Because I seem to have developed quite a liking to this particular sort...”

“Good thing you’re so good at stalking them.”

And then they were kissing again, more intensely –– _deeply_ –– this time, with Kurt’s tongue finding its way into Sebastian’s mouth, warm and wet and stroking against Sebastian’s tongue. Within seconds, Sebastian had Kurt pushed against his car, crowing his space, bodies pressed against each other. It had been such a natural thing to do, but for a moment Sebastian stopped and wondered if it was pushing it too far –– until he felt Kurt’s hand sneak under his blazer, roaming his back, while the other had a steady hold on his shoulder.

“This isn’t ––” Sebastian began to say, but Kurt was kissing him again, “–– what I –– planned –– when I got here,” managed to get out.

“Didn’t see it coming either,” Kurt said in one go because at least Sebastian was a gentleman enough to let him speak (but not really, he was just really out of breath because kissing Kurt Hummel was mindblowing).

“Really?” He couldn’t help but to smirk a little as he glanced over Kurt’s face; they were so close that he could probably count Kurt’s eyelashes if he tried (or had the patience more like it), and he gently stroked his fingers through the short, short hair of Kurt’s nape, from time to time gently scratching with his nails. “I thought you were pretty clear that I’d tap your glorious arse if I got the chance.”

“It’s gonna take a lot more than charm to get into my pants, Smythe,” he said playfully against Sebastian’s cheek, and it was almost scary how easy they had just shifted from shouting at each other’s faces to mumbling quietly against each other’s skin. It would probably have seemed daunting to Sebastian if he didn’t feel like he knew Kurt already, as insane as it was. Or was it? He didn’t really give himself a chance to figure that one out because gently dragging his lips across Kurt’s cheeks and shin before going back to those now reddened lips was more appealing by far.

The kiss became hot within the blink of an eye, making Sebastian dig his nails into Kurt’s skin and drag, which encouraged Kurt to shift and press their crotches together, only to make Sebastian groan into his mouth and place a hand against his car to steady himself.

There was a loud gasp, almost like a squeak, followed by someone clearing his throat, and both Kurt and Sebastian turned their heads to see Rachel and that girl named after a car staring at them.

“Kurt!” Rachel hissed dramatically for no good reason, blushing furiously while her friend looked less embarrassed but rather uncomfortable.

Subtly, Sebastian pulled back a little, so he and Kurt weren’t _pressed_ together but instead there was a narrow space in between them, because he wasn’t quite ready to leave Kurt just yet. Kurt seemed to be on the same page though, by the way the hand on his back gently moved to his hip but then stayed there.

“Mh, yeah?” Kurt asked carefully.

“You ––” the car girl started but was immediately cut off.

“You’re needed inside –– Finn accidentally spilled ice coffee all over Tina –– it’s an emergency!” Rachel butt in.

Sebastian wasn’t too sure about the gravity of this particular crisis, especially since they implied that Kurt would be leaving a _very_ enjoyable encounter for said emergency, but when Kurt shifted from one foot to another, Sebastian understood that he would actually go back inside.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,” he promised, his hand on Sebastian’s falling down to his hip instead.

“Emergency!” Rachel repeated, but the other girl started to drag her away, seemingly anxious to leave the scene. Once Sebastian heard the door to the Lima Bean open and close, did he actually realise that he perhaps needed to take a step back so that Kurt could leave, but Kurt just groaned and let his head rest on Sebastian’s shoulder.

“Sorry, have to go,” he murmured into Sebastian’s shoulder, and Sebastian found himself smirking.

“Hey, don’t worry; you can always text me later.”

Kurt laughed a little, looking back at him. “And you’ll answer?”

“Only because I don’t want you to stalk down my arse and kill me,” he said, kissing Kurt again because he could.

“Sounds like something I’d do,” Kurt said and then there was more kissing until Kurt somehow managed to pry himself away and walked back inside, looking flushed and a little rumbled like any fighting-then-kissing session will make you, and Sebastian openly started at his arse until he was out of sight.

(16:42)

 **Stalker:** Still gonna stalk your arse down later

 **You:** Holding you on that one ;)

 

_Fin_


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